Guidelines to Loving an Incognito Superhero
by SchadenFreude95
Summary: There are two very good reasons why I shouldn't have feelings for Clark Kent (Besides him being ridiculously out of my reach.) 1. He is totally in love with Lois Lane. 2. I think he might be Superman. Clark Kent/OC
1. Prologue, of sorts

I do not own Superman. There.

* * *

I don't quite remember when I first started crushing on Clark Kent. It was certainly soon after the first time I saw him, but exactly when the feelings first became present, I'm not entirely sure.

I was new at the Daily Planet, had only been there for a month. The total underdog of the newspaper. I wasn't a reporter; I was the office girl, who did everyone's bidding.

Printing out articles and making coffee was my main task. Not that I didn't want to be a report though, I was actually very busy becoming one. I worked every day at the paper, to learn the daily lives of a reporter, and most nights, if I wasn't feeling too tired or lazy or if I had anything I needed to do, I went to an evening school-thing where I was slowly working my way through an education as a reporter.

Then one day he just was there, carrying around luggage, which bumped into everyone, and apologizing left and right, because of said luggage.

"Who's that?" I'd asked Jimmy, the photographer and, so far, my only friend at the Daily Planet. He'd looked at me like I had just sprouted another head and said; "Why, that's CK!"

Crinkling my nose, I had asked, "What's a CK?"

Of course he had jumped into a long (and very worshipping) story about how 'CK' was one of the best reporters ever, _and _his personal friend, but had been away for five years, on some sort of personal business.

I remember thinking something along the lines of 'I'd tap that', after Jimmy had introduced me to Clark Kent and I had gotten a good look at him. He really was an amazingly good looking man, with his incredible height, good building, blue eyes and dark hair. And I guess the crush just progressed from then on, until I was too deep in to ever turn back again.

That was our first encounter, how brief it may have been. I don't even remember if we had said 'hi' to each other. Jimmy did most of the talking, as he always seemed to do.

I do, however, remember quite clearly when the thought of him being Superman first showed up. And it wasn't even my idea to start with, embarrassingly enough.

Lois Lane, the queen of the Newspaper, had asked me to stay late and help her, Richard White and Clark with some research for their articles. I had accepted, not that I could actually say no to _her. _She was, as formerly mentioned, the queen of this place. That didn't mean she always got everything her way, though. Nobody got their way, not with our boss. The man was a sadist. I was used to staying behind and helping reports who were behind, mainly calling their sources or searching for facts on the subject, on the internet.

Lois was working on an article about the newly returned Superman, and Clark had been given the article Lois really wanted, which was about a mysterious power cut in the city. She was very unhappy with this, because she really wanted to avoid anything Superman-esque and I felt sort of bad for her. She was right in what she had said earlier that day; Mr. White was practically forcing Superman into her life again. Everyone knew that Superman and Lois had been an 'item' back in the day, so to force him into her life, while she was engaged, to _his nephew_ of all people, was just cruel.

Still, it shouldn't really have been that much of a problem. Everybody had to believe that she was truly over Superman, if they had to go by that article she wrote about him.

What was its name again? Something long, something not true.. Something stupid and cliché.

Ah! _Why the world doesn't need Superman. _

Wonderful name, really, very imaginative. Sounded like those stupid, 'How to' or 'guidelines to' books middle-aged women liked to read because their marriage was failing or their life sucked.

I must've been the only person who didn't like the article, because she won a Pulitzer for it.

Anyway, I was working late, helping Lois arrange several older articles about Superman, wishing that I was home in bed instead. I had had to skip an evening lecture, just to stay and help.

Lois and Richard were standing together, brooding over pictures of Superman. I was two desks away, typing away at a computer and Clark was standing ten-fifteen feet away, fumbling about with some papers. Clark hadn't asked for my help, to my disappointment. In fact, he didn't even seem to properly register my presence. There wasn't anyone else here, except for Lois and Richard's son, Jason. Jimmy was in the other room, tinkering with his camera.

I could hear Lois and Richard discuss Superman physique and couldn't help but scoff slightly: the woman always talked about how she was 'over' Superman, but she sat right there, every single detail about him memorized and she was actually able answer all of Richards questions right off the bat. I know I said I felt sorry for her, but at that specific time, she wasn't my favorite person. She was the reason I wasn't home in bed yet. While they might've been able to stay late and then go to work later than usual the next day, I certainly couldn't. As the office-girl, I didn't have many privileges and as the star reporters of the paper, they did.

Then Richard suddenly turned the conversation toward Clark's physique and how he and Superman looked very much alike.

And because I was sitting where I was, I could easily hear what they said, but I could also see Clark's face better than them. Lois seemed like she was actually considering the possibility of them being the same person too. And this was where my suspicion formed. Perhaps I just wanted Clark to be Superman, because that really would prove that he was the perfect guy.

I liked studying people, so naturally I was watching Clark, whom I liked studying the most, for, well, obvious reasons.

.. Hot!

When they started comparing Clark and Superman, his eyes widened, like those of a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His otherwise constant leafing through papers stilled and then he stared straight ahead instead of on the paper.

For a second, he froze completely and then he turned around, pushed up his glasses, which, by the way, I always found extremely adorable, and smiled and waved at Lois and Richard in the least Superman-ly way possible. Even I could probably look more like Superman than he did at that moment, and I'm a head shorter than him, not to mention a girl.

After that, they laughed off the idea of him being Superman, but I saw the way he puffed out his cheeks and released a breath in what I could only describe as relief.

I realized that the idea mightn't have been as laughable as Lois and Richard thought it was. And I started seeing the parallels between Clark Kent and Superman. Besides, later that night, I saw him drop his glasses, when he bent down to help Lois pick up some things she had dropped from her purse. Once again, I was sitting in precisely the right place and got a good look at his face, without the glasses.

I'd almost forgotten Richards comment but after seeing him without his glasses, I couldn't help but mentally go through that scene again and how relieved he had looked.

He really did look like Superman, with the hair, eyes and physique. And he wouldn't have been able to hear their conversation, unless he had super-hearing. And he clearly had heard their conversation.

He returned the _exact same day_ as Superman did and they had both been gone for five years!

Superman was, if the rumors were true, in love with Lois, and Clark clearly had feelings for her too.

And if he weren't Superman, that would mean that Richard, Superman, _and_ Clark were in love with her. Which I found unlikely. She wasn't really that great a person, so having three individual men love her just seemed improbable. But the probability increased if it was only two men. So Clark and Superman had to be the same guy. Period.

I knew that all of those examples weren't much proof individually, but when combined, they really served as strong evidence.

I started watching him more closely and came upon other clues.

No, I am not a stalker.

Once, I'd seen him accidentally snap a pen in two, with one hand, just because he was frustrated with an article.

And I'm not talking about any cheap wooden pencils or those plastic pens, I'm talking expensive, metal pens! One of those that you can drop a television on and they still work like a charm. He was twirling it between his fingers, when some part of his half-finished article didn't add up, so he frowned in irritation, his grip on the pen tightening.

And then it just.. snapped in half.

He didn't even look like he put any effort into it at all, but after he broke it, he didn't look surprised either.

He just glanced around to see if anyone had seen. This was when I quickly looked away, only to see him throw the pen in the trashcan a second after.

Another time, he dropped a paper under his table. After he'd picked it up, he knocked his head against the bottom of the table and it almost flipped over. A lot of people got a good fright out of that one, it made a huge racket. He stopped it though, with really fast reflexes, but afterwards, there was a decent sized dent in the table, which hadn't been there before. Once again, not a cheap wooden table, but an expensive steel table.

When half a year had gone by, I was almost a hundred percent sure that he really was Superman. No, I hadn't caught him in the act, but everything fit so well it was ridiculous. I know that he was clumsy and insecure and awkward, but those could easily be brushed off as part of a fake personality he adopted to remove any suspicion of his other identity, just like the way he had waved at Lois and Richard and they immediately discarded the idea.

He really was very smart.

I had a picture of Clark Kent and a picture of Superman lying around, somewhere in my apartment. I had made sure to acquire a picture where they both looked in the same direction, with the same angle and everything.

So, whenever I started doubting my Clark-Superman theory, I whipped out the pictures and placed them against each other, before holding them up against the sun.

The only differences between the two pictures were the glasses and the hair-do. Their faces were identical.

And it really had to be him.

I was quite please with those pictures. They'd been hard to find. Rather, two pictures that matched had been hard to find. But they helped me in convincing myself of my theory, so the two hours of searching the web was worth it. He was Superman. He had to be.

That thought both excited and annoyed me. Knowing who Superman really was would be wicked cool, but it would mean that I had feelings for Superman's secret identity.

Which meant I had feelings for Superman. And being infatuated with Superman was such a cliché.

I had considered telling Jimmy a couple of times, but always decided against it. Clark had obvious reasons for keep his secret identity, well, continuously _secret_. That was the whole point.

It wasn't really my secret to tell, anyway. If he wanted Jimmy to know, he would tell him himself.

Also, there was no reason to add fuel to Jimmy's 'I love Clark Kent' fire.

Then I'd thought about just straight out telling Clark that I knew about his other life.

But that was a pretty shitty idea too. If it wasn't him after all, I'd just have to die from embarrassment.

And if it really was him, what then? I couldn't exactly just walk up to him, practically a stranger and say "Hey, nice weather we're having, eh? Also, I totally know about you leading a double life where you dress up in tights and a red cape to fight crime-doers in the evening. No biggie. Oh, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Yeah, not a great plan.

Still, I felt like he deserved to know that I knew. So I waited. I kept his secret to myself and waited for the opportune moment.

That opportune moment never came, but he did end up finding out that I knew. But I'll get to that later.

* * *

I plan to make the chapters longer. Think of this as a prologue.

I'll be trying to update this story every weekend, but I honestly can't promise anything. I already have, like, 50 pages written, so in the beginning I'll probably be on time with uploading, but I can't promise I'll be able to keep up from the beginning 'til the end.


	2. Cleaning Ladies and Juice-accidents

**Chapter 2**

**Cleaning ladies and Juice-accident**

Working at the Daily Planet had its ups and downs. This meant that whenever the boss wasn't harassing me or other unfortunate victims, and when I had something to do, it was nice.

Today, unfortunately, was not one of those days where I had anything to do. The paper wasn't very busy, nothing exceptional had happened in the world recently.

The usual articles about Superman's latest heroics were already written. There were no interesting wars to write about. People were tired of reading about politics, and no major crimes had happened for some time, so the paper didn't have much to do. The front page article was about a Zoo closing down, so you can guess how desperate things were.

Since Superman's return half a year earlier, the paper had relied a lot on his newest justice doings, but even he had been quiet lately.

The whole world had decided to be boring, apparently.

So, since the only thing people needed me for was to get new coffee every half hour or, once in a while, print out small articles, I was sitting at my tiny desk, bored. The coffee had just been handed out, so I had a whole half hour for myself.

My legs were propped up on the wooden surface of the desk and I was comfortably sitting in the office chair, reading a cheap magazine, noisily sucking on the straw from a half finished juice box.

You can imagine my mortification, when a certain someone suddenly appeared in front of my desk.

He cleared his throat and my eyes widened comically behind my glasses. I almost flipped over the table as I sat up properly, sneaking away the magazine and juice box at the same time. In my rush, I smashed the juice box into the table and the juice was squeezed out, creating a huge mess on the floor. For a moment I stared at the puddle in horror, realizing that I'd just made a total ass out of myself, in front of Clark Kent.

Then I turned to him, flicked some hair out of my eyes and smiled my polite smile.

"Can I help you, Mr. Kent?" I asked, pretending like the juice accident hadn't happened at all. He had a glint of laughter in his eyes, but his face didn't give away any of his amusement.

"I'd like to have this article printed out, please."

His voice. Heavenly.

Inwardly drooling now.

My smile increased slightly and I folded my hands in front of me, trying to appear just a bit professional. "Of course, Mister Kent. How many copies would you like?"

"Just one. I need it for editing." He held out the flash drive, which contained the article, signaling that the conversation was over.

I really wanted to keep talking to him, but I had run out of questions, so I just took accepted the flash drive he held out.

His hand brushed mine. I was dying slowly inside.

"I'll see to it right away." I didn't let my inner turmoil show as I stood.

Then he smiled at me. One of those adorable innocent smiles that only he could do. I repressed the urge to sigh dreamily.

_Stop swooning, you idiot_! I could practically hear my best friend's voice say in my head. She'd told me that many times. And she was right. I really should stop swooning, especially over someone who probably didn't even know my name-

"Thank you, Miss Logan."

Okay, so, back to swooning.

I moved to step around the table and towards the copy room, but I had barely taken two steps, before he spoke up again.

"Shouldn't you clean that up first?" he pointed at the pool of juice, which still laughed up at me from its position on the floor.

That's embarrassing. I had hoped he would've just ignored that. I needed to keep my 'honor' intact, so I had to come up with something witty to not seem like the idiot I apparently was.

I smirked a bit, "Nah, got plenty of time. Maybe that hawk of a cleaning lady will see it. She'd get a real kick outta that one." I tipped my head to one side and smiled sweetly. It was really lousy, but it was all I got. I was never good at coming up with comebacks on the spot.

He let out a single laugh, which sent shivers of pleasure down my spine.

"Well, someone has to make her day." He said. He tipped his head slightly at me in a goodbye.

Then he walked away again. I probably should have cleaned up that juice puddle, but I wanted to make a good impression on him, so I headed for the printing room as quick as possible. When I walked to the printing room, I realized that that was the longest conversation I had ever had with him. Ever. Which wasn't saying much, considering I'd only talked to him a few times before and they had all been along the lines of what he'd like in his coffee or if he needed an article printed.

Usually, he printed his articles himself, so I guess he was behind on this one, otherwise he wouldn't have asked me to do it for him. He was too polite for that, even though it was my job.

My thoughts stayed on him while I waited for the paper to print. Looking at the watch on my wrist, I noted that coffee-time, as I had dubbed it, was in fifteen minutes.

Just as the last paper came out of the machine, Jimmy walked in. He waved at me with his usual energy, before flashing a picture of me with his camera. He always took pictures of the weirdest things.

"Don't we look beautiful this morning!" He said and I grinned at the compliment.

"Need some pictures printed?" I questioned. He nodded enthusiastically at me. The fact that Jimmy was my only friend at the newspaper wasn't really that strange. He was a bit socially awkward, as was I, so we fit together nicely. I always enjoyed his energy and positive personality.

"I think I might've gotten some good pictures of Superman this time!"

Poor Jimmy. He always tried so hard to get a picture of Superman, but never got any. It was always a source of complaint from Mr. White, even when Jimmy was a great photographer. He could make anything look good interesting with that camera of his.

Except for the one thing Mr. White wanted him to take good pictures of, which was Superman.

"That's nice, Jimmy." I doubted he had succeeded this time, but one could always hope. On a whim, I decided to stay and see if he was right this time.

He wasn't.

After a few minutes, a bunch of pictures were assembled on the table.

All four of them featured the sky, some skyscrapers as backgrounds, and then a little red and blue dot somewhere on them. One of the pictures was blurry, on one he had only captured half of Superman, on the third he was too far away to see him properly and the fourth just showed a small blurry dot, undoubtedly Superman flying so fast the camera couldn't capture the motion properly.

I held in a snicker at the sight of Jimmy's crestfallen face and patted him on the shoulder.

"You'll get it at some point. Don't worry." He smiled almost sadly at me, before nodding, once again energetic.

"'course I will! I'll go right now!"

I almost told him that he wouldn't have any luck now, since Clark was working in the office, but managed to hold it in.

Then I remembered that I actually had an article that Clark was waiting for, so I bid Jimmy goodbye and headed back to the office.

Once there, I made quick work to give Clark the article. He was on the phone, so he just nodded at me and motioned for an empty spot on his desk.

After I put the article down, he flashed me a close lipped smile and mouthed a 'thanks' before returning to his phone conversation.

When I got back to my desk, the cleaning lady was actually there. She looked really mad and for a moment I considered hiding in the bathroom, but didn't.

Besides, she had already spotted me.

"Hey!" she roared at me and I inwardly cringed. This was going to be not-fun.

Our cleaning lady was an old woman who always reeked of coffee and cigars. She was short, even shorter than I, and plumb. Or just stoutly built. The perfect stereotype cleaning lady.

I never understood anything she said, her accent was so thick.

So needless to say, after a few minutes of her raging, I sort of started to zone her out. It was getting embarrassing though. A lot of people were starting to watch. It was always fun when someone was shouted at by the crazy lady, unless it was yourself.

She was really getting excited now. She liked to shout at people and since I was the office girl instead of a reporter, she could afford shouting at me a lot more than the reporters.

"Silly little girl! I will have Mister Perry fire you!"

Ouch. Okay, so that I understood.

On that note, she threw a bunch of paper towels at my face and marched to Perry White's office. The towels hit me on the nose and fell to the floor in a heap, adding to the mess I had already created.

The door to Mr. White's office slammed shut and I could hear the muffled shouting of the old bat, obviously intending to make her threat come true.

I bent down and picked up the towels, using them to wipe up the juice. For a moment I felt a twinge of fear. What if she actually did manage to get me fired? It's not like this was the first time we had a clash. Annoying her was one of my accidental hobbies. It wasn't like I always meant for her to get annoyed with me, it just happened.

A moment later, Mr. White kicked her out and I felt my fear disappear entirely. I was lucky that he was such a strong believer in hierarchy and wouldn't listen to a cleaner.

She was fuming when she stormed by and I couldn't stop the sugary sweet smile I sent her way.

Muttering something I couldn't understand, and don't think I'd like to understand, she was gone. That was quite the commotion. Looking around, I saw that we had attracted a nice audience. Of course, these people being reporters, they were all a bunch of snooping writers. Anything the least bit dramatic had their attention immediately.

When I had finished wiping up the juice, Jimmy suddenly bent down and helped me pick up the left-over towels.

"I don't get why you provoke her like that all the time." He complained. He was never comfortable with fighting.

Sighing, I stood up again. "I don't know, Jimmy. It just sorta happens." I shrugged innocently and threw out the paper towels.

"Weren't you heading for the streets?" I cocked my head to one side, "Pictures of Superman?" Almost automatically, my eyes went to Clark, who was typing insanely fast on his keyboard a few desks away.

I quickly looked back at Jimmy, deciding that accidentally giving him clues as to who Superman really was would be a bad idea.

"I was. But then I remembered that I have a bunch of pictures I need to edit instead." He slumped his shoulders sadly and I almost felt sad for him. It wasn't like he didn't like editing his pictures; he just liked taking them more. The man belonged on the street, taking pictures of.. well, taking pictures of the world!

"You go now, Jimmy. I'll stay and help you edit after work." Since I wasn't going to any evening classes, I had the whole night to myself. My friend, Diana, wasn't available either, so I'd just end up on my couch with a crappy chick-flick anyway. Might as well help a friend in need. Besides, I'd done this loads of times before, so I knew the procedure well enough. And Jimmy often complimented me on my editing skills, so I must have been doing something right the past times. I guess I just liked doing stuff I was good at.

"Oi! Can you go get that coffee now?"

.. Except for maybe that particular skill.

Looking at whoever had shouted, I gave them a polite, but fake, smile. It was that snobbish reporter from Britain, Brittany (Brittany from Britain? Hehehe..), who always behaved like she was the actual queen of England. Despite having lived in the US for most of her life, she still insisted on talking with this incredibly posh English accent, which I suspected was an incredibly _fake_ posh English accent.

"I'll get to it right away." I decided to not comment on the fact that the coffee wasn't due 'til 14:30 and I had ten minutes.

"See you tonight, Jimmy." I turned to my only office-friend, who flashed a grateful smile at me.

"Thanks a lot, Georgia." He hiked the camera further up on his shoulder by the strap and left the office, only stopping to grab his coat on the way out.

"Yup, that's what I do.." I muttered, leaning against the desk, "work and help out friends. Not like I have anything else in my life." The sad smile didn't leave my face as I stepped out of the crowded room, heading for the coffee maker.

All in a day's work.

And people think Superman's job is tiring.

_._._._._._._._

If I had known just how grateful I was going to be in the future for offering Jimmy my help, I probably would've been a lot more excited once the day was over and people started leaving.

The rest of the day had been entirely uneventful and I was practically asleep in my seat behind the little wooden desk. I managed to stay awake though. The boss would lynch me if he caught me sleeping on the job.

I livened up a bit though, when people started leaving, their workday finished. As soon as they were gone, I'd order some take-away for me and Jimmy, probably take off my suicide heels and we'd have a ton of fun editing his photos. We would most likely not finish before midnight, but tomorrow was Saturday, and my day off, so it was fine.

As always, I had half an eye trained on Clark, who, so far, had made no move to go home yet.

Strange. He was usually one of the first to head home. Probably to go do Superhero stuff. Not that I could ask him that.

Only three people were left now, and he still hadn't left. He really must've been behind on that article, for him to actually stay late. He never stayed late. I guess it was a great advantage to be Superman with his inhuman speed, when it came to writing.

By now it was just Clark, Jimmy, who had returned from the streets half an hour ago, and me. I pretended not to notice Clark as I walked up to Jimmy's desk, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing.

Clark walked up and stood next to me, opposite of Jimmy, obviously waiting for him to finish too. Why would he do that? It was stressful to me, whenever he was close. I felt like I needed to do something. Like, suck in my stomach to appear thinner, or something. For some reason, I always felt like this was some competition, like I needed to prove myself when he was near. Which was ridiculous, because besides being a nice, unprejudiced man, he was too damn perfect to compete with. It was all in my head. Probably because he made looking naturally handsome so easy. It was like he wasn't even aware of it, and if he was, he was too modest to flaunt it.

He was too perfect for his own good. It's that amazing I appeared to be the only woman drooling all over him.

Finally, _finally, _after an eternity of awkwardness, Jimmy turned from his computer, towards us.

"All done!" He sprang from his chair, clapping his hands together, before rubbing them together over-exaggeratedly, "So, pizza?"

I sent him a 'really?' look and flicked my head slightly at Clark, question clear in my eyes.

"Oh!" He seemed to have completely forgotten everything about Clark, for once. "Georgia, Clark offered to stay and keep us company tonight. Great, right?" Jimmy beamed with happiness. Clark pushed up his classes and smiled his 'Clark-smile', waving once.

No! Not great! I wanted to shout that, no, it wasn't great, I didn't need a whole night of sucking in my stomach or eating like a lady or staying in my heels or sitting properly on my chair. I needed a casual night with my friend, where I didn't have to worry about superhot incognito Superheroes or looking good in front of them.

"That's just fine." I forced out, simultaneously forcing a smile.

"Nice!" he pulled out his wallet and coat. "I'll go grab the usual. Be back in half an hour." He shrugged on the coat. "What would you like, Clark?"

"Erh," Clark released a gush of air and pushed his lips together, "I'll have whatever you're having." He gave Jimmy a close-lipped smile, who returned with a thumbs-up.

This was terrible. Normally, I ate a whole pizza by myself, but I couldn't do that now. Not with Clark here. The thought alone was enough to make me lose my appetite, even though I was always really hungry this time of day.

As soon as Jimmy left, I realized I was alone with him.

Not once did that occur to me; that'd I'd been alone with Clark once Jimmy had left. I was too busy freaking out over the thought of _eating_ in front of him, for goodness sakes.

We both awkwardly stood where Jimmy had left us for a moment. Then _he_ broke the silence.

"So, eh, that was quite a run-in you had with that lady."

Great Scott, this was a topic I'd like to avoid. Actually, talking to him altogether was a topic I'd like to avoid.

"Yeah, she didn't take kindly to my 'juice accident'"

.. Juice accident? Really?

I grimaced slightly, but he didn't seem to notice my un-coolness at all. Instead he smiled a bit and moved to sit at Jimmy's desk.

I decided to get the hell outta there and come back when Jimmy had returned with the pizzas.

* * *

I've been sick all week

Urgggghhh

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this


	3. My Boss Hates Me

When Jimmy came back, I also conveniently returned from a half hour long bathroom trip. In reality, I had been sitting in a stall in the bathroom, playing snake on my old, beat-up phone.

Jimmy and Clark sat in the conference room, the only place which had a table big enough for all the pizza boxes and which wasn't filled with papers, computers and the like. I didn't have any time to be embarrassed over the fact that he had brought a whole pizza for me. As soon as I entered, Jimmy shouted a 'hey', then a 'where were you', then a 'come eat'. That man's energy level was amazing.

Clark just smiled nicely over his piece of pizza. How two such different people managed to get along was even more amazing than Jimmy's energy level.

I comforted myself with the fact that they had gotten a whole pizza for themselves too, so I wouldn't appear as much a fatty as I might have, but as I sat down across from Jimmy, who sat next to Clark, I still felt a twinge of embarrassment. They were men, so it was different. Unlike them, I had to eat as little as possible, that was the unwritten law.

I couldn't be annoyed with Jimmy for getting me a whole. I always got a whole, so how was he supposed to know? It would've been suspicious if I only asked for a slice instead.

As I sat down and the amazing smell hit me, I forgot some of my shame. It was just pizza, after all. And Clark was nice. He wasn't going to judge me, just for eating a pizza. And I really was hungry..

I ended up only eating half of it.

Some ten-fifteen minutes later, they were done. Which was so not cool, because I certainly wasn't. Trying to appear ladylike, while eating a pizza, with no cutleries, was quite a task. I think I'd managed well enough, though. At least he wasn't looking at me like I was the most disgusting creature on earth.

In fact, he wasn't even looking at me at all. He was looking at.. the wall.

That would've been strange, had I not known that he could look through walls. He was probably looking for criminals in the city. Such a faithful man, never stops thinking of others.

Jimmy, however, was sending me a strange look. Because I was eating like a not-pig? I suppose so; he _was_ used to my usual table manners.

He mimicked the position of a posh lady, sipping her tea and held up his hands in silent questioning. I motioned for him to shut up and flicked my head in Clark's direction.

This horrible look of realization crossed his face and I felt my stomach drop to the floor below. He had totally gotten the wrong idea. Or gotten the terribly right idea. Shit. Then he smiled evilly and raised his eyebrows a couple of times at me. I probably looked like a deer caught in headlights, and, just to avoid his eyes, I took off my glasses so I couldn't see anything.

But taking off my glasses could, unfortunately, not block out sound.

So, Clark.. Have I ever properly introduced you and Georgia?" I flung my glasses on, righting them when they landed askew and sent him my most withering glare. He just smirked devilishly, not even trying to hide his smugness.

I was going to kill him.

"Hm?" the distant look on Clark's face disappeared and he looked back at Jimmy. "What'd you say?"

"Oh, I just wondered if I ever introduced you two properly." Clark's eyes flew to me and then back to Jimmy. "No, you haven't." Jimmy's big mouth opened again, but I interrupted him, "But you don't have to, we know each other well enough." I tried smiling at Clark, but It was probably more of a grimace, "We see each other sometimes around the office, don't we, Clark?" I inwardly cringed at my slip up. I'd called him Clark, instead of Mr. Kent.

It didn't seem to bother him though. He just smiled widely and sat so he faced me instead of Jimmy, "Yes, we do. We just talked together this afternoon, didn't we, Georgia?"

Okay, so he had noticed if the slightly teasing smirk on his face was an indicator. Still, the sound of him saying my name was doing terrible things to me.

I wanted this man. A lot.

"Yes, after my juice-accident." Stop calling it juice-accident, goddammit!

Once again, Clark didn't note my lack of coolness, but Jimmy snorted out a laugh. "Are we calling it juice-accident now?" I needed him to shut up.

"Well, let's get working on those pictures, eh?" I said a little too loudly and a little too fast. I stood up too quickly too, roughly hitting the table, making it jump up slightly, sending glasses, leftovers, and pizza-boxes flying everywhere.

"Ow." The only thing to over-shadow the pain in my hip was the all-consuming shame and embarrassment I felt. One of Clark's eyebrows cocked slightly and I mentally facepalmed. I should just stop moving altogether.

Jimmy, bless him, pretended that it didn't happen and stood up too, much more graceful than I had.

"Yes, let's!" Then, picking up his own trash, he threw it in the trashcan. I followed his example, shuffling out of the room as soon as my trash hit its goal.

I needed to do something I was good at. Just to prove that I wasn't a total waste of evolution. So I edited. I edited faster and better than ever before, determined to impress Clark.

While Jimmy and I edited pictures, Clark worked on that article he was so behind on. Light conversation passed between Clark and Jimmy, but I made sure to keep my mouth shut. Several times, Clark disappeared for a short while. Jimmy didn't question it, so neither did I. Besides, I already knew where he was going: to do Superhero stuff.

One time where he left, to 'go to the bathroom', Jimmy waited exactly five seconds for him to be out the door, before turning smugly to me. I faced him, raising both eyebrows at him innocently, as if saying I had no idea what he was so smug about.

After several seconds, where he waited for me to speak, he grew impatient and broke the silence.

"So, Clark?"

"What about him?" right now, obliviousness was my best shot.

He laughed loudly and folded his arms in front of him, settling for a 'girl-talk'. "I gotta say; that's really ambitious."

Was he insulting me? He was totally insulting me!

"Hey, that's not nice!" I sniffed, sticking my nose in the air.

"So you admit it?" I really wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

"NO! But I can recognize an insult when I hear one! And for your information, I can get any man I'd like."

His face was blank and then he slowly cocked one eyebrow, in disbelief. The thought 'Yeah right' was written all over his face.

"Okay, fine, so I _might_ not be the most desirable girl, but that doesn't mean I can't dream?" His smile returned and I realized I had just accidentally admitted feelings for Clark. He was cleverer than I gave him credit for sometimes.

"Shut up." I mumbled and returned to my editing, the only distraction I had. Shortly after, Clark returned. I mentally snickered at his appearance: His tie was hanging with the wrong side on display and his shirt collar wasn't folded properly.

"Did you fight any criminals while going to the bathroom, Clark?" Jimmy frowned at Clark's slip ups.

"What? No! Why?" He looked slightly panicked.

"Your tie is all wrong."

"Oh!" Tucking at his tie, it fell from his neck and he left it on the table.

A few minutes later, Jimmy looked at the bunch of pictures I'd already finished, "Wow, Georgia, you're one fire!"He said, causing Clark to look up."These are great!"

Instead of the cocky smile I'd usually send him, I flashed him a shy and modest one, "Thanks. I try."

He rolled his eyes at my attempt at seeming modest. I sent him a glare.

Clark walked up too and looked at my screen. "These _are_ good."

He complimented me! Maybe I wasn't a total screw up. "All thanks to Jimmy's great photography skills."

"Exactly." Jimmy was quick to agree.

"If only you could get those pictures of Superman you want so much.." I trailed off and looked at Clark. Unfortunately, he was looking at me, so our eyes met and my not-so-subtle look didn't go unnoticed. He frowned ever so slightly and I was afraid I'd just totally revealed that I knew.

"You want to take pictures of Superman?" I let out a sigh of relief when he turned towards Jimmy. He'd hopefully forget about that little incident soon.

"Duh! Perry is always on my case because I can't get any! Those pictures I took six months ago, where Superman stopped Lex Luthor from creating a new continent, they aren't interesting anymore. He wants something new!"

"I suppose that's reasonable."

"Well, yeah, but it's difficult to constantly acquire new pictures of him." Jimmy looked miffed, as if Superman had done a great personal insult towards him for not letting Jimmy photograph him.

Clark didn't feel any need to answer that, so he turned from my screen and returned to his article.

Half an hour later, we had almost finished.

"I'm just about done." I informed Jimmy, who looked like he was finishing up too.

"Me too." Jimmy said.

"That's swell! I'm done now." I had to smile at his use of the word 'swell'. He was adorable. We all gathered our things together, me taking off my heels and slipping into my more comfortable sneakers.

Soon after, we were all outside. Clark was trying to grab a taxi, Jimmy was leaning on his bike and I stood next to him.

"Thanks a lot for helping me out. Couldn't have done it without you." He jumped on his bike and started to drive off.

"You're welcome!" I shouted after him and returned the wave he sent me.

I suppose the night wasn't a total fiasco. I might've made a bit of a fool of myself in front of Clark, but overall, I hadn't been that bad. Besides, helping Jimmy was more important than trying to impress a guy. Friends before lovers and all that.

"Would you like to share a taxi?" Clark broke through my train of thought.

Sitting close to him, with the risk of bumping into him, for a longer period of time? No thank you.

"Oh, no, that's fine, I'll just walk." I declined. As an afterthought, I added, "We live in totally different parts of the city, anyway. I live way down on Barton Street." I decided to not mention that I hadn't enough money for a taxi and that I'd been stupid enough to break my bike a few days before.

"I see." He nodded, "Well, goodnight then. I'll probably see you at work."

"Yep. Good night." I popped my lips at the 'p', then turned and headed home. Just before I turned the corner, I looked back, to see him already gone. A minute later, Superman flew by. It was so him.

_._._._._._._._

An entire week passed without any note-worthy occurrences. I worked at the paper as always, I studied during the evenings and I dreamed about Clark Kent. Except for a polite nod and smile as a morning greeting on Wednesday, Clark and I didn't interact. The nod and smile was enough to keep me wistfully sighing for the rest of the day, but that is another matter entirely.

There was only half an hour left of work and since it was Friday and I had the weekend off, I was practically jumping in my seat. I was going to spend the weekend with Diana, probably dragging her with me to an evening lecture. The smart thing about the place where I studied was that you could go to classes even during the weekend. I would've probably never finished my education without the weekend classes.

This Friday, I would have liked to call The Friday That Changed My Life, but I can't. That title is reserved for another Friday entirely.

But I'll get to that later.

I just call it The Friday Where It All Started. The point is, this Friday wasn't my everyday Friday.

Ten minutes passed by and I slowly began to pack a few of my belongings together, when Perry White came toward my desk.

"This is not good." I mumbled to myself. Whenever he talked to me, it was usually to ask that I did a bit of overtime. Crossing out tonight's plans on my mental list, I sat properly on my chair and gave him a polite smile.

"Can I help you, Mr. White?"

"I need you to work late tonight. I have a meeting and you have to prepare the conference room and clean up afterwards." He grunted. He regarded me with a superior look and it took all my will-power to keep the smile on my face.

"Of course, Mr. White." I forced out through my teeth. "I would love to."

If he couldn't hear how sarcastic I was being, I have officially lost all faith in humanity.

I didn't feel the need to point out that he had people to clean his dirty conference room. It was probably cheaper to just make me stay and both set up the room and then clean afterwards.

He scoffed a bit at me, probably because we both knew that I most certainly would not love to clean up after him and his gang of fat reporter friends, but he didn't say anything as he walked away.

"The meeting starts at six." He called back to me, when he was halfway to his office already.

Six. Looking up at the clock on the wall, I saw that it was almost five already. I wasn't allowed to go before ten past five, so I had fifty minutes to get something to eat and fix up the conference room. I contemplated whether I would have time to go home and change into more comfortable shoes, but I already knew that I didn't. I barely had enough time to all the others things as it were.

Still, an hour later, I had managed to get everything done, and people where starting to file in.

The meeting took several hours. Luckily, I didn't have to be present, so I just sat at my usual desk and did a bit of homework. After the meeting was done, I finally thought I could start cleaning and get home, but Mr. White had other plans. Failing to mention so to me, he had another meeting to go through, before calling it a night.

The small handle was slowly leaning towards ten on the big watch we had on the wall, when they were finally done.

Cleaning quickly and mentally telling myself that I would think it was worth it when I saw my paycheck, I left the building as fast as I could.

It was pretty late already, and dark. People were starting to head out, ready for a wild Friday night. The streetlights were lit, but as I continued further down the streets, I reached one where they were out for some reason. I don't know why the lights didn't work; only that they had been out for months now, and nobody seemed to bother fixing them.

Though it creeped me out, I knew I could save ten minutes of walking by taking a shortcut down that street. And since I was both hungry and my feet were sore, it wasn't difficult to choose which way to go.

Halfway down the long street, it slowly got really dark. The remaining light from the rest of the city seemed to seep away through the holes on the old doors in the buildings. It was a very old street and mostly abandoned. The houses were all old and fancy, probably at least a hundred years old. No one lived here anymore, though. The sewers weren't working either, so that was a good thing. The streetlamps were those nice and fancy looking ones you never saw anymore, but since they weren't working, they weren't that impressive.

I started to regret going this way. When I worked late, I usually never went down this street. I didn't typically mind the dark, but when I was alone late at night and in the city, it was scary.

I heard something behind me, but resisted the urge to whirl around. If there was someone there, it was best to not let them know that I knew.

After a moment, I subtly looked behind me and nearly pissed myself when I saw the silhouette of two large men there.

I tried to calm down by telling myself that they probably weren't even after me, but it didn't do much to calm my frantically beating heart. Deciding to speed up, I looked intently on the light of the street that came after this one. The light was growing closer, but too slowly. I could hear the scuffling of their footsteps now. They had sped up too. Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

A scream was building up in me, but I squashed it down. I just needed to get out of this place _now_ and I'd be fine. No reason to panic. Don't scream. No reason to panic.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't, don't, don't.

I both panicked and screamed when a hand closed around my upper arm and my purse was ripped from my shoulder. It stung, but I had other things to think about then. For example; the man clamping my mouth shut while whamming my head against a brick wall. Son of a bitch.

The two men were both tall and bulky, wearing worn clothes and looking generally scruffy.

Neither said anything. The one that had grabbed my purse dug through it, while the other held me closely against the wall. He smelled like cigarettes and alcohol. I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he was strong. And my head hurt and I was slightly dizzy. He had done a good job at pushing me against that wall.

Damn this! I was short on money already; I didn't need these two idiots to take the few spare dollars I had!

"Anything good?" the one holding me said. The other grunted a no in response. Well, I could've just told them that. I probably didn't have more than five dollars in that purse. Which worried me. People like this probably got mad if you didn't manage to give them the goods.

And I really didn't want to die.

I was really scared now. I could feel the hard lump of a gun or a knife in the pocket of the man holding me. It made me go rigid and stop wiggling at once. I hoped he didn't find a use for it.

"There is nothing in this blasted thing!" The one digging through my bag stood suddenly, turning it inside out, all my belongings clattering to the ground. He kicked it roughly with an angry sound and I jumped slightly in my spot.

He turned angrily to me instead. I was going to die.

I was going to die. I didn't want to die.

Oh god.

"Little bitch!" He slapped me harshly, my cheek stinging. My glasses fell off and I was shaking like a leaf. "I'll have to demand something else from you."

I knew exactly what he was insinuating. And if I hadn't, the perverted look he had would've enlightened me immediately.

This was even worse than being killed or beaten. I would've probably preferred the murdering. This left emotional scars that I wouldn't be able to get rid of. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block out the world.

The tallest one, the one holding me, chuckled. "It's my turn after you're done." A shudder ran through me, originating from where he had his hand clamped over my mouth. I was scared out of my pants, but there was anger too. Slowly, the fear started to give way to the anger. How dare they?! I was a human being! I was not an object and I was not going to go down without a fight.

Fuck this. I was NOT going to die, or get raped, not tonight, not by the hands of these losers. I couldn't take them on alone, but I could certainly call for assistance. In a desperate attempt, I bit harshly into his hand and he roared loudly in pain. As soon as he let go, I screamed loudly.

"HELP! SUPERMAN-!" I barely started, when the other man shut me up again.

* * *

Finally Easter vacation.

I think I'll go paint some Lord of the Rings themed Easter eggs now.

Hope you enjoyed, and if you did, feel free to leave a review


	4. Missing Glasses and Annoying Friends

**Chapter 4**

**Missing Glasses and Annoying Friends**

"Fuck! Don't alert that goody-two-shoes!" He had a dangerous glint in his eyes now. If he had planned on letting me go after his fun before, he certainly wasn't now. Now he was planning on killing me. I could only pray that Superman had heard my scream.

It was a new and slightly frightening aspect for me to be so completely dependent on someone else. Not since I'd moved out of my parents' house had I been dependent on other people as I was now. I liked to have control, I liked my independence, so if I hadn't been squashed against a wall by two thugs, I probably would've had a hard time accepting the help.

"Sir, I'd like you to put the woman down." Every cell in my body cried out in relief at the sight of him. Superman, red cape and all, was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, looking like a father sternly telling his kids to behave. I decided that I didn't mind his interference after all.

He wasn't as good looking as when he was Clark, in my opinion, but it was definitely him. Maybe I just had a weakness for his glasses. Or perhaps it was because I couldn't see anything without _my_ glasses.

Now it was the two muggers who looked close to pissing their pants and the one holding me immediately let go. Suddenly there was no longer anything holding me up, so I sank to the ground, shaking like a leaf. I could feel the tears well in my eyes.

They ran off, as if thinking they could out-run Superman. Superman looked at me and said "Wait here." before flying off after the two.

And wait I did. I don't think I could have moved, even if I wanted to. My legs were shaking badly and I was afraid of trying to stand on them. My head hurt badly too. My cheek stung from where he'd hit me. Once I was alone, the tears started falling freely. The salty tears felt uncomfortable on my throbbing cheek. I wanted to gather my stuff and find my bag, but I couldn't muster the energy to do so. I just sat, cried and waited for Superman to come back.

It took a few minutes before I moved and when I did, it was only to bend my legs and hug them tightly to me. I rested my forehead on my knees and buried my face in my arms. My hair acted as a curtain so I couldn't see anything and I started crying more. Not just tears anymore, but big, unattractive sobs and sniffs and whimpers. I could feel my eyes puff and my nose run and I knew I looked a mess. Mascara everywhere, red nose, messy hair. I certainly didn't need Clark to see me like this.

But at the same time, I needed Clark. I needed him to comfort me.

Since I was hidden behind my hair I didn't see or hear Clark – Superman, I suppose – come back, so I flinched when his hand was suddenly on my shoulder.

Slowly I looked up, scared, only to see the brilliantly blue eyes of Clar– Superman. I'd never seen Superman up close, but now that I had, there was no doubt. Clark and Superman were one and the same.

"Are you alright, Miss?" His voice was sexier as Superman. More confident and manly. I shuddered briefly at the thought of Clark using that voice. He didn't sound unsure and he didn't stutter like he usually did. He sounded strong. When I got past the sound of his voice and started to register what he'd said, his words brought me back to reality.

I tried to nod a bit, but it only resulted in a new wave of unattractive sobs. He looked sort of panicked for a moment, as if he didn't know what to do. Comforting crying girls had probably not been in the job description.

"Did they hurt you?" his eyes went to my swollen cheek, a look of sympathy on his face.

"N-no.." I stammered out between sobs. Taking in a shuddering breath my voiced calmed down a bit, "At least not so bad.." I pouted a bit in my effort to keep the sobs in. Reaching up a hand I wiped some tears off my cheeks and rubbed my nose.

He gave me my purse, which I hadn't noticed before now. All my belongings were back in it. "T-hanks." I stuttered. Next, he gave me my glasses, which I gratefully took and put on again. He was smiling kindly at me as I did.

"I'll take you home now. You'll be alright." He sounded so reassuring. The adrenaline moved out of my body, the weariness in my bones seemed to seep out and settle in the rest of me and I was suddenly incredibly tired. I could barely sit up and I went limb as a ragdoll, when he picked me up.

He didn't ask me where I lived, but I remembered telling him earlier when he had offered to share a taxi, so he already knew. His body was so warm, like a nice fire place and a blanket and his arms were surprisingly soft and gentle. I felt really comfortable in them, which only urged the tiredness on. Soon, I was almost asleep. He landed on the little balcony that went with my apartment a few minutes after. How he knew my exact apartment number I didn't know, but he probably had super-sight and had found my name on the door.

He slipped through the balcony door, which was never locked because no one could get in that way unless they.. well unless they flew.

I was in a daze when he looked through my doors in search of my bed, I was that tired. Even the thought of Clark, Superman, in my apartment wasn't enough to liven me up a little. I just wanted to sleep. Now.

He finally found my bedroom and placed me on the bed, making sure to tug the comforter up to my neck.

"Good night, Miss."

His voice sounded distant, but I could understand what he said.

I was only seconds away from falling asleep, when I muttered, "Thank you, Clark."

Then I was gone.

The next morning was a slow one for me.

Even before I opened my eyes, I remembered what had happened to me the night before. How could I not? My cheek still hurt like a bitch, as did the back of my head. Actually, every part of me hurt. For a moment I just lay, not opening my eyes, going through everything that had happened.

Baddies. Robbing. Superman. No more baddies. Taken home. Tugged in by _freaking Superman. _I felt like I was forgetting something. Something important. It sort of sent a shiver of dread down my spine, but I had no idea why. I felt like I had done something incredibly stupid, something that was going to affect my life a lot in the near future.

Sort of like back in high school, where I really needed to pee and I was on my period, but every stall was taken, so I decided to just use that one stall where the lock wasn't working and as soon as I had my pants down around my ankles, the most popular boy and girl from high school suddenly broke in, sucking faces. The extreme horror of locking eyes with one, then the other, then watch their eyes travel south and knowing, _knowing_, that this was the end of my already half dead social life.

To my terror, I had that same feeling now. Only that the change wasn't going to be for just the rest of my high school years, but much longer than that.

If only I could remember why.

When I didn't remember, I decided to just get up. I really wanted a bath. I should have done that yesterday, but I was too tired then. Now I really needed to wash the filth away. I could still feel those men's hands on me. I practically ran for the bathroom after that thought.

Once I had filled the tub with hot water, I accidentally got a look at myself in the mirror. I visibly cringed at it: the left side of my face was completely covered in a dark-blue bruise, the area around my eye still slightly swollen. I looked like a train-wreck. Or a mugging victim, which made sense since I was a mugging victim.

The sound that left my mouth, once I stepped into the water, was not human. I almost fell asleep again after a moment of soaking. Once I got in, I furiously scrubbed my body until I felt clean again, but then I just allowed myself to lean back and relax. It wasn't like I had anything planned for the day..

"Honey! I'm hooOOme!"

.. well, except for that. I'd totally forgotten about promising to hang out with Diana! Sighing at my own forgetfulness, I rubbed a hand over my eyes, wincing as I pressed a bit too hard on the bruise.

"In the bathroom!" I didn't bother to get up: Diana had her own key. Not only was that because she was here almost as much as at her own apartment, but it was also great because I always lost my own key. Getting myself locked out of the apartment was a monthly occurrence, and despite all her other flaws, she was better at not losing her things than I. So it was smart to have a spare key with her at all times.

She stepped into the bathroom and made a grimace at my face.

"Eugh, what happened to your face?"

I made a grimace myself, "I sort of got beat up in an alley by two people trying to mug me?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "You? Who'd any to steal money from you? Everyone can see you're poor."

.. Diana, ladies and gentlemen!

The first time I ever met her was in high-school, after that bathroom incident, which ruined my already doomed high-school life. Some kid was picking on me and she actually _beat him up_. She was almost expelled after that, but it was such a kind thing to do, I couldn't help but find interest in her person afterwards. She's quite the character. I wouldn't say we were immediate friends. Actually, she was annoyed with me for 'following her around', but she gave in, in the end.

Her name was Diana, but don't be fooled. While her name was elegant, the girl herself was about as elegant as an old boot.

Which was ironic because she was absolutely gorgeous. A shame she had the mind, mouth and personality of a fifteen year old boy.

"Love you too." I sank deeper into the water, closing my eyes.

"No, but seriously." She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, "What happened?"

I, regrettably, took a hand out of the lovely, warm water, signaling for a towel. She handed me one.

"I'm serious. I was mugged in an alley and Superman saved me." I wrapped myself snuggly in the towel, motioning for my eye, "Not before this happened, though." I tentatively felt the back of my head, wincing when I hit the sore spot. Retracting my hand, I found a bit of blood on it. "And this." I waved my bloodied fingers in her face.

I marched out the bathroom and into my bedroom, Diana right behind me. I quickly slipped on underwear and wrapped my hair in the towel.

"I had to bite one of their hands so I could scream for help."

She made an impressed sound, which matched the look on her face. "s'cool. Except you had to call for help. I would've just beaten them up myself."

"Oho, not these guys. They were huge." I wrinkled my nose, "And smelly." On that note, I fished my deodorant out of a mess-pile and used it. "Besides, I got to see Superman up close. Aaand, he flew me home." I pointed at her in an 'I win' way. I didn't' think I'd really won though. It had been a really scary experience, but I kewn that if she knew how scared I really was, she wouldn't leave me alone for weeks. It was her own messed up way of showing that she cared.

"Not fair." She jumped onto my bed roughly and I could hear the madras squeak in complaint.

"Hey, stop destroying my furniture!"

"I wanna see Superman up close. Actually, I wanna bang Superman up close." She contemplated, putting her hands behind her head and staring at my ceiling.

I rolled my eyes at her and slipped into a pair of pants. "I'll be sure to mention that next time I'm being saved by him from a pair of muggers."

"Yeah, you will. But I don't want to wait! You should've just told him this time, instead. But you kept him to yourself. That's rude, that is."

Much like the rest of the female population in Metropolis, Diana thought of Superman as God's gift to the women of the world.

"Or, you could just walk around shabby streets in the night, getting mugged, yourself." I shrugged innocently, "It'd save time."

She threw a pillow at me, which I dodged just as I started digging around for my apparently missing shirt. Finding in the same mess-pile as the one my deodorant was in, I was now completely dressed.

"Wait, if he flew you home, does that mean he was here, like, _in the apartment?"_

The instinct to brag was immediate. "Tugged me in and everything. "

She raised one eyebrow tauntingly. "_And everything?" _ She purred suggestively, a naught smirk on her face.

I returned the pillow with vigor. She wasn't quick enough and it hit her right in the face. When it fell down again, she had her famous 'you will die' glared aimed at me. Luckily, it I was out of the danger-zone. She never sent me that glare properly, only in jest.

"What'd you want to do today?" She sat up in my bed, looking like she for once allowed me to decide what we'd do.

"Not anything too tiring." I shrugged, looking around for my glasses. Which was a challenge, because looking without the device that allowed me to look was idiotic and impossible. "I want to be able to actually pay attention in class tonight and get some homework done."

As coincidental as it was, Diana was in the middle of the same education as I, the same evening school and everything.

It was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because it meant I was never alone during classes and I always had someone who could help me with homework. The curse was that Diana was the type that didn't help you with homework, but rather copied from you, and she often skived classes. I tried to be a good student and learn as much as possible, but sometimes she even managed to convince me to skip a few classes.

Suffice to say, I would've been a much better student if I hadn't been taking the same classes as she was.

The worst thing was that she was a brilliant reporter, a natural. She barely needed to pay attention in any classes, she was that good. That just happened to go to her head, to the point where she felt like she was above doing her homework like the rest of us.

"Nerd." I gave her a look and she sighed dramatically. "Fiiine," she groaned. "I'll go to the class. And pay attention. But only if we go buy slush-ice first." Eating slush-ice during classes was sort of our thing. We just concentrated better that way, how illogical that might've been.

"Good." I looked around, still on my wild glass-search. "Where'd I put those darn things?" I mumbled to myself.

"Where'd you put what?" Diana had lain back down on the bed, inspecting her nails. I guess 'not doing anything too tiring' meant 'not doing a flying fwupper at all, all day' In her book.

"My glasses." I answered. She lazily looked to both her sides, like she couldn't even be bothered to sit up to do it. "But they're right here. On your bedside table." She picked them up, and, just because she knew it would annoy me, she tossed them to me.

I didn't catch them, since I could barely see them coming and they hit me in the neck, before falling down. I expected to hear a clatter of broken glasses, but the same mess-pile from before saved them.

"Now I know Superman's been here. Those glasses are never where they should be." I suppose she was right. I was quick to pick them up and put them on, the world coming into focus once again.

"Since you're a cheap-ass without a TV, I say we go to my apartment." She said a moment later. I walked out of my room to see her shrugging her coat on again. I felt like I should protest at that, but it was true. She did have a nice TV at her place and it was closer to the school anyway, so we might as well. I made her stay and wait for me to cover my bruise with some make-up and then we left.

It was a short walk from my apartment to hers – only about fifteen minutes, and in the end, we'd end up in a much nicer part of town than my place. Her parents were rich, which meant she had a shit-load of money herself and she put them to good use.

Or at least just put them to use, anyway.

As we walked, I spotted a picture of Superman by a newspaper stand and that horrible feeling that I'd done something stupid returned. I couldn't believe I'd managed to forget it, but now it was totally overwhelming.

On a whim, I stopped and bought the newspaper the picture was on. It was a Daily Planet paper, so after looking at the picture, I went in search of any articles by Clark. I usually liked those. But that probably had more to do with the man than the articles.

"Dude! Look where you're going!" I had found an article by Clark and it got me distracted enough to almost walk into Diana.

"Sorry." I folded the paper and slipped it into my bag, mentally reminding myself to read the article later.

* * *

I've been procrastinating on my History paper all Easter and now I don't have anymore time to get it done.

I hate my work attitude sometimes.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you did, please leave a review to tell me what you thought of it!


	5. The Forgotten Make-Up

**Chapter 5**

**The Forgotten Make-Up**

Diana was a _horrible_ classmate. Don't get me wrong, I could live with her insisting on us sitting in the back row and I could deal with the fact that she never did her homework yet always got good grades, but her constant talking..

That was a lot harder to live with.

"Look, I'm not saying Prof. Garfield is boring or anything, but _man_ is he BORING."

"That's contradictory." I mumbled, gnawing on the straw from my Slush-ice, _trying_ to listen to our teacher. But with Diana's constant talking and the feeling that I was still forgetting something really important, it was hard for me to concentrate. Looking down at my notes, I almost whimpered when I saw the lack of them.

The classroom was one of those huge college rooms with a podium in front and rows of seats, where the rows got higher and higher the further back you got. The professor was an old man, with a slightly monotonous voice, which made paying attention that much harder.

I felt myself give up and just focus on that dread in my stomach. What had I done? Had I said something stupid? Puked all over him? Made a move? Wait.. _had I kissed Superman_? I hope not. I'd just have to go die of shame if I had.

I went through everything that had happened that night:

First I got mugged, and then saved, then–

"Plus he's so ooold." Diana slumped further down in her seat, fiddling about with a pencil she'd borrowed from me.

"Diana.."

Thenhe flew me home and I got really tired, all of a sudden.

"Oh, com'on George, you'll have to admit that he's boring!" She started using the pencil as a drumming stick, much to my annoyance.

I'd gotten so tired that I'd actually fallen asleep while he was still there. But had I said something before I fell asleep? For some reason, I felt like that was the right answer. I'd said something to him right before I fell asleep.

"Fine, I'll admit he's not the most exhilarating person to have walked the face of the earth, but he's honestly not that bad."

She snorted in disagreement, but didn't comment further on the subject. Instead, the drumming picked up speed and volume.

I reached out and punched her arm lightly, effectively stopping her irritating motion.

What on earth had I said to Clark?

Clark..

CLARK!

_"Thank you, Clark." _

Holy shit-sticks, I'd called him Clark!

I had fucking said Clark, right into Superman's face!

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit -

I'm pretty sure I looked like a switch had just gone off in my head. Then I looked a bit nauseous and panicky. I felt sort of nauseous and panicky. 'Sort of' meaning 'very'.

I had fucking called him Clark! He totally knew! My big fat mouth had just ruined my life! This is what happens when I refer to him as Clark in my head whenever I see him as Superman. This. Is. What. HAPPENS!

Feeling like I couldn't breathe and a sudden need to get out of this room made me raise my hand.

"Yes, Miss Logan?" Professor Garfield said, though I hardly paid any attention to him. I was too busy freaking out inside my head. Diana snapped her head up from its position on the table and looked at me.

"I don't feel so good, professor. I think I'd better go." My voice shook slightly.

Ever the skeptical, he raised an eyebrow at me, "Oh?"

"Yes sir. I don't want any accidents. That would be mean to the cleaning lady." I felt like the room was suffocating me and I really needed that fresh air now. More importantly, I needed _cold_ air.

"Dude, you're green in your head." Diana pointed out tactlessly. I knew what she was doing though. She was helping me get out. She was a master at this, knew exactly what to do to get out of class early.

To emphasize that I really was sick, I took a hand to my stomach and crouched over, pretending to be on the verge of puking. Professor Garfield looked panicked for a second, then shooed me out.

"For Heaven's sake, girl, if you're really that bad, get out!" He looked something between sympathetic and annoyed.

Diana stood before I had the chance to. "I'll escort her out!" She said a little too loudly. "Don't want her to go home alone, do we? Not in her state."

She grabbed my arm and our bags, before dragging me out swiftly. I offered Professor Garfield a small smile, "Thank you Professor." I almost felt bad for interrupting his lesson, but not really. I had other things to worry about.

Once we got out, Diana turned and gave me a smile worthy of a beauty pageant, "That was brilliant!" She handed me my bag, "Thank you for getting sick right now!"

"Thanks for helping." I gave her a wry smile, "I wouldn't have gotten out if you hadn't made that comment about me being green in my face. Good lie."

She frowned a bit, "That wasn't a lie, George. You look like an avocado." Her eyes closed to small slits as she regarded me, "Are you alright?"

"Actually, I do feel kind of nauseous." We were outside now and I sat on one of the benches that lined the stone path that led to the building we had just left. She scoffed a bit and placed her bag on the bench next to me with a 'thump'. "Whimp." She smirked. I just gave her a look of annoyance before redirection my gaze again.

"Seriously though, what's wrong?" She shoved her bag over and sat next to me.

"I just realized that I did something really stupid and I can't do anything to change it."

She rolled her eyes, "You're talking in riddles, Gandalf. Gimme a straight answer."

I made a frustrated sound and threw my hands into the air, "That's just it! I can't tell you. It's.." I scratched the back of my head, looking for the right word. I couldn't tell her about my dilemma but I couldn't just stay vague either. She'd just keep demanding answers. And If I wasn't vague enough, she'd figure it out. "It's not my secret to tell." I decided on. That was safe to say, right?

"Oh." She nodded and then we both fell silent.

"I think I'll go home now." I needed some time to panic by myself. I needed to analyze my situation and weight my options. I wanted to paint. That was a good stress-relief and I hadn't used that new paint my mom got me for my last birthday.

"Do you want me to come with you?" It was really kind of her to offer that, but I really needed to be alone.

"No, it's fine. I have homework anyway." I lied. We exchanged all the necessary goodbyes, but I barely registered them.

I walked swiftly through the street, making sure to hide my face as much as possible. If Clar-Superman flew by, I didn't want him to see me and stop to talk to me.

My heart was still hammering faster than usual in my chest and the adrenalin made me walk much faster than I normally would. I was lucky I'd walked this way so many times. My head was everywhere but on the street and if I hadn't been so familiar with the streets, I would've gotten lost immediately.

I walked into my apartment in a daze. In the kitchen, I prepared a cup of chocolate and heated some leftovers in the microwave oven. I thought better, when I ate. I waited for the water to boil and the food to heat up impatiently. Drumming my fingers on the counter I took a moment to think through this rationally.

Maybe he didn't even know. What if he hadn't heard me?

Nope, super-hearing.

But then, what if he had already left before I said it?

Nah, I remember hearing him leave _after_ I'd said it.

Dammit.

He totally knew.

A new wave of panic started to sweep through me, but I quickly tried to squash it down. So what if he knew? It's not like I'd tell anyone, he could trust me!

But he didn't know that. The only time we'd ever really interacted was that evening where I had almost flipped over a table and Jimmy and I had been editing pictures, and that hadn't been interacting, that had been me making an idiot of myself while he and Jimmy conversed. I'd almost flipped over a table, for criminy's sake! Right now I was probably just the strange and clumsy office girl who somehow knew about his secret double life.

The oven announced that my food was ready with a loud 'ding' and I took the food out, placing it on a book which was already on the table, since I couldn't find anything else to put under the hot plate. Next, the water finished boiling. I had no time to marvel over the fact that I'd managed to time my chocolate and food so they fit together perfectly.

I needed to figure out what to do.

I had to go to work tomorrow and he would be there. What was I supposed to do? Should I just completely ignore the fact that I'd said Clark instead of Superman? Would HE try to talk to me about it? I guess he'd have to, but that would be pretty risky. Talking about his secret identity in the middle of an office filled with noisy reporters? Even Superman would find that intimidating.

And what would he do about it? Could he erase memories? Would he threaten me into not telling anyone? Would he _kill _me just to avoid getting caught?

Of course not! He was Superman! He wouldn't kill anyone; he'd probably just have a serious talk with me and have me swear on secrecy. A serious talk with Superman sounded just as scary as getting mugged by two thugs, so that didn't help.

I finished the hot beverage and sat down in a comfortable chair in the living-room/kitchen area. It was true I didn't have a television, but I did have a laptop and my next-door neighbor didn't have any password on his wifi..

My computer was old, slow and weighed a ton, but it got the job done. I didn't need, nor could I afford, any of the newest and expensive laptops. Unlike Diana, who had every apple product you could get your hands on, my parents weren't filthy rich. They made just as much as every other middle-class family. They did give me a small amount of money each month, which I really appreciated, since it allowed me to have the apartment I had.

The apartment in itself was nice, but nothing special. The living room and kitchen were joined by an opening without a door, and not that big. Neither was the bedroom or the bathroom, but two things made me love the apartment. First of all, it had a bathtub. I bet I could afford an apartment just as nice as Diana's if I hadn't had such a love for warm, long, bubble baths. My water bill was always insane.

Secondly, it had a small balcony, which I couldn't live without. Not only was it great if I needed to catch a bit of fresh air, it was large enough to contain my telescope and other star-watching gadgets. Watching the stars and studying the universe was a hobby of mine, which I could get pretty obsessed about.

It was night out when I finished eating, but star-gazing was the last thing on my mind. I was so horribly aware of the fact that with every passing second, the next day grew nearer and with it, the confrontation with Clark.

The urge to paint started to itch in my fingers and I jumped up from my old and comfortable chair, to gather all the things I needed for the picture I had in my head.

In the end, the painting didn't turn out the way I wanted, but I felt considerably calmer. I even felt like I could fall asleep. I saw that it was actually quite late, so I decided that sleep was exactly what I'd do.

Despite my worries, it only took me a moment to fall asleep. I normally took some time to fall asleep and I'd expected this time to take even longer, with everything that was on my mind, but it seemed that the painting at calmed me even more than I thought.

Besides, what was there to worry about? He couldn't hurt me, he wouldn't! The worst that could happen would be that I got some stern lecture on secrecy or that he'd get really mad at me.

I realized that this might also mean that I'd never have a chance with him ever, since he'd probably either write me off as a stalker, or avoid me altogether. Or perhaps he would keep an eye on me all the time, to make sure I never told anyone. I felt bad for him too. He was certainly feeling even worse than I. I only revealed that I knew someone else's darkest secret, he had to worry about someone revealing to the world that he had another identity, which he had worked so hard on keeping secret.

On that note, I fell asleep.

The next morning, my personal tsunami of panic and doom returned full force. As soon as I woke up, I was anxious. All the reassurance I'd been rehearsing the night before, all the calming words, were all forgotten, stepping aside to allow the gut-wrenching anxiety to step into the limelight.

"Shitshitshitshit-" I mumbled under my breath continuously as I prepared for my day. Afterwards I couldn't recall any specific details from that morning, only the panic and the feeling of my heart in my throat. Insignificant details like preparing my breakfast or if I'd remembered to brush my teeth where not things I worried about.

I spent so much time worrying that I was running late. Perhaps starring into your breakfast in horror was not the best thing to do when you were on a tight schedule.

I was halfway down the street when I remembered that I had forgotten to cover up that terrible bruise on my face. I could only wish that I had some make up in my bag so I could hide it when I got to work.

Once I got to work, I quickly signed myself in and then ran for the bathroom, hoping that nobody had seen me. I'm pretty sure the cleaning lady from hell saw me and actually _smiled_ at me, or y bruise. Once inside the bathroom I checked my purse, praying that I had been my usual forgetful self and still had some make up in it from my last sleepover at Diana's.

I did have a blush, but that wasn't going to do much. I had mascara, but I couldn't exactly smear that on the bruise. I didn't have anything to put on the stupid bruise and I _was not_ walking around the office for a whole day with this face.

Brittany The British Bitch, as Diana so colorfully named her, walked in at that point. She took one look at me and then, "Oh my god, what happened to you?"

I wanted to tell her to go away, but I knew that she always carried foundation in her purse and that we had pretty much the same complexion, so I needed her right now.

Deciding that telling her the truth would earn me sympathy points, I did just that.

"Erh, I got mugged in an alleyway.. Superman saved me." I pouted. "I forgot make up to cover the bruise with."

She looked kind of sympathetic. That was progress, I guess. "I'm sorry to hear that." She looked like I wanted to leave and I wondered if she meant that she was sorry that I was mugged, or saved by Superman. "Next time you should be more careful. And remember make up to cover it up.."

I knew I'd lost the game then and that she wasn't going to lend me any make up. "Get well soon." The smile she gave me was fake, that much I could tell.

"Thanks." I forced out through my teeth. Idiot.

After ten more minutes in the bathroom, I decided to suck it up and face the day.

So what if I had a giant black/blue/purple bruise on one side of my face? I could do this! I didn't need the approval of these people; I should not and would not feel embarrassed by the way I looked. The rumor that I was mugged would spread really fast and people would just think of me as a brave or an inspiration to other women for already being back to work after such a traumatic experience. Feeling confident from my own pep-talk, I marched out of the bathroom, my head held high.

* * *

Waking up at six in the morning on a Saturday to go to work is _not_ the shit.

Anyway, a lot of people has been reviewing, simply saying "please update as soon as possible" or something along those lines, so I felt the need to point out that I update once a week, every Saturday, so telling me to 'update immediately' is not going to make me update faster.

Instead, how about telling me what you thought of the chapter?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a lovely weekend!


	6. I have a chat with Superman

**Chapter 6**

**I have a chat with Superman**

Half an hour later, I knew that I certainly could not do this. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away. EVERYBODY WAS LOOKING AT ME. I was too used to being invisible and all the attention was killing me. Some people had come and told me how sorry they were and some of the older people kept flashing me sympathetic glances while others just looked at me because I was the latest piece of gossip.

I was freaking out. I liked being half-invisible, it allowed me to study people without them noticing and I like being 'beneath them' because that meant I didn't have to worry about appearances all the time.

But, worst of all: Clark.

He'd arrived later at work than usual. The office had sort of started to tone down the staring, and I was almost feeling as ease again because I'd once again turned invisible. Then he showed up and I felt even worse than the rest of the day combined.

Because he just gave me this look, like he didn't get what I was doing here, like I didn't belong, as if I was a tulip in a patch of roses or something. Maybe he was just confused that I was already at work again so soon after such a traumatic experience. He eyed my bruise and then we got eye contact. His head tipped to the side a bit, as if he was trying to figure something out and then..

Ignored me.

Didn't spare me a glance for the rest of the day. Just like that. To anyone else, he would've looked like he was wondering how I got the bruise and then decided to not care. But I knew better. He wasn't going to just let this one slip, not if he had the least bit of suspicion.

But perhaps he didn't? What if he hadn't heard me say it, after all? Two hours of my work day was left, and I was almost kind of completely convinced that he didn't know, when he suddenly showed up in front of my desk. I froze in my position, not looking straight at him, but at some point behind him.

"Miss Logan, would you mind staying late and helping me arrange a few articles? " he scratched the back of his heads in fake sheepishness. He was a great actor, when I thought about it, "I'm terribly behind. Didn't get any work done yesterday." That was a lie. Clark was never behind. Not enough to actually need help, at least. The whole excuse was incredibly lame, but the message was clear: Stay after work so I can talk to you.

I forced my eyes to focus on him, trying to keep my face blank. He looked perfectly at ease, but his eyes widened a fraction, a look that clearly said 'we need to talk'.

I was in so much trouble. I tried to read his face but wasn't successful. I realized, after several seconds, that I really needed to answer his question.

And yet, no noise came out as I opened my mouth. Was I actually _scared_ of Clark Kent? Or maybe I was just terrified of confrontation.

"I promise I wouldn't ask you if I didn't really need it." I think he was afraid that I would refuse. And I could really appreciate what he was trying to do: He didn't just plan on squashing me into a flat pancake in some dark alleyway, he offered to talk to me and hear me out.

"Erh, yes." I shook my head to clear my muddled brain, "Sure! I'd love to help you, Mister Kent."

He looked like he was about to say something else, something I wouldn't like, but at that moment, our lovely boss pocked his head out of his office door and hollered for him, "Kent! Get in here!"

"Thank you, Miss Logan." He flashed a lopsided smile that would've been beautiful if it hadn't been accompanied by a dark look in his eyes, and then left for Perry's office. I've never loved my boss as much as I did that moment. His sense of timing was amazing and had saved me from.. well, I didn't know from what, but something that I certainly wouldn't enjoy.

I really wanted to just _die_ right about now, but of course, it didn't come to that. I was pretty sure he wasn't going to do anything that could hurt me, he was Superman after all.

Still, I didn't do well with confrontations and this was certainly one I could do without. I became really anxious again. While the day had seemed to drag like a dentists' appointment before, it suddenly flashed by in an instant at it was soon time for the other reports to go home. Whatever fate they left me to, I didn't know.

The office emptied slowly, a few people staying behind for a moment or two to finish what they were writing on. Once the last one had left and the cleaning lady had finished her job, Clark stood. I'd been sitting in my chair, squirming, since he had asked me to stay behind. Now he turned slowly, facing me. I was dying a thousand deaths inside. I saw no point in avoiding his eyes, so, trying to appear strong, I faced him completely, standing too. I tried to appear strong, but I probably looked like a scared rabbit.

He approached me slowly and the sudden urge to flee came over me. Which wouldn't help much. Unless I quit my job and moved to the moon. But he'd probably find me there too. Hadn't three people from his planet been on the moon before? Did he even need oxygen? If I really tried to escape by going to the moon, he'd probably fly up there and wait for me. He might even arrange a welcome party for me, where the evening's entertainment would be me, forced to explain how the heck I knew anyway.

He stopped at my desk. I hadn't moved from my spot, so the table was between us, which comforted me, stupidly enough. He took off his glasses and straightened up, crossing his arms in front of him in a very superman-ly manner.

I realized right there that I wasn't facing Clark, but Superman. Or both. Since they're the same guy. Was he schizophrenic? I didn't know. I was confused.

All I knew was that he was Superman right now. I could see it in his posture and stern eyes. And that Clark looked incredibly sexy when he was standing straight and oozing manly confidence and strength.

My right arm held onto my left one awkwardly, scratching my elbow slightly. I cleared my throat loudly waiting for him to make a move.

"How did you know?" he had just gone into no-shit mode.

Okay, so not in the mood for pleasantries. He didn't even bother trying to find out if I _really _knew, before asking. There was no doubt in his mind that I knew.

"Deh- I- well.."

"Miss Logan.."

Wait, so no 'Georgia' or 'Clark' anymore?

He looked pleadingly at me. I could see that he was actually really worried and he had good reason to be afraid. He didn't know me. He didn't trust me. And he didn't know if anyone else knew. Of course he would be worried.

My mouth was a total bastard. It was so good at talking, especially talking about things it _shouldn't_ be talking about, and now when I really needed it to talk, that little idiot refused to cooperate. Heaving a huge sigh, I dumped back into my chair. I probably looked miserable. "Look, no one else knows, okay?" I felt like saying 'don't worry', but that would be rude. He had every right to worry.

"I haven't told anyone and nobody told me: I figured it out myself." He looked surprised at me for a moment. "How?"

I couldn't stop the wry smile on my face, "A pair of glasses and a slouching posture isn't the best disguise you could've come up with." The only reaction I got was a single raised eyebrow. He looked partly like he was challenging that statement, and partly like he was offended by it.

He urged me to continue. So he expected me to tell the whole story? Fine by me. "Do you remember six months ago, when you had just returned and that whole mess with Lex Luthor and that new continent happened?" He looked pained for a moment, but nodded. Of course he remembered; He had almost died.

I remember seeing that in the news and getting really worried, because, I'd thought that I didn't want Clark to die.

"Well, that night where Lois and Richard, Jimmy and you were working on those articles and I had been asked to stay behind and help Lois, that night Lois and Richard compared your physique to.. well to_ your_ physique and the idea just stuck." I wasn't about to tell him that I'd been stalking him or had pictures of him in my apartment, so I lightly skipped over the part where I investigated the idea that he was Superman. "I wasn't a hundred percent sure, though, until last night. I recognized you."

He nodded in thought as he considered what I'd told him. "And you figured this out all by yourself? Impressive." I thought back the urge to point out that it'd been Richard's idea first. He'd just given me a compliment, and as the pathetic girl I was, I took what I could get.

"Well, my dad is a cop." I shrugged and quirked one side of my mouth up. "It's in the genes, I guess."

"I hope you realize that this is a situation I would've liked to avoid. No one was supposed to know." He started to look even sterner and I felt like a little child who was being scorned by its parents. I looked a bit intimidated and then nodded. "I know. I didn't mean for you to know that I knew."

That didn't seem to calm him at all. In fact, it only seemed to make him sterner. "I like it better that I know." He was very short with words tonight – another intimidation factor. I had to be careful so I didn't end like a squashed bug on the sidewalk.

"And we can agree that you won't tell anyone?"

I nodded earnestly, "Of course! That's a given." In an attempt to calm him further, I added "I promise I won't tell a soul."

He nodded and then a small smile finally found his face. He visibly relaxed and seemed to become slightly more Clark and slightly less Superman. "Good. I believe I can trust you. Jimmy seems to find you trustworthy."

"Jimmy's an idiot," I said good naturedly, in jest of course. "He trusts everyone." He chuckled once at my humor and tugged a hand into his pocket.

"Now that that's done.. Are you alright?" He suddenly seemed very interested in my bruise and his hand moved a fraction as if he wanted to touch it. He stopped himself though. I still drew in a breath at the thought of his hand on my face. This man's mood changes were giving me a headache. I was having a hard time keep up.

"I'm fine," I reassured him. "It looks worse than it really is."

"Okay," he seemed revealed and a warm feeling pooled into my stomach, because he had been worried about me.

"D'you want me to take you home? It's dark out and I wouldn't want a repeat performance." This time his hand did move, but only to motion at my face.

My bastard mouth, which had a total life of its own blurted out, "What, like fly?" my eyes widened and my heart-rate increased. I would like to be in those arms without being halfway unconscious at the same time.

He burst out laughing at my idiocy, or perhaps the deer caught in headlight look on my face. "No, that's not what I meant! I offered to _walk_ you home." His laughter stopped and, if I was the kind of girl who blushed, I would've been as red as a tomato by now. Idiot.

"Oh.. Then sure!" I had long since learned that the best way to get over a moment of idiocy was to pretend like it hadn't happened or you hadn't realized that you had been stupid, so I flashed him my best smile and picked up my coat.

The best way to describe my feelings at that time would be that my stomach was slowly oozing out of my feet and my heart trying to escape my throat. I was really nervous. As much as I knew he walked me home because he didn't want anyone to mug me again, I also knew that he was doing it to find out if he could really trust me. And that was the main reason I didn't refuse. I'd wanted to tell him that it wasn't necessary and that I'd be fine on my own, but I didn't. He wanted to find out if he could trust me, and I wanted to prove that he could, which would mean to act relaxed around him. And refusing his company would be suspicious.

We didn't talk much while we walked that was a huge relief to me, because as panicked as I had sounded when I'd thought that he planned on flying me home, that idea was still more appealing to me. And no, not because I would like to be held by him, but because that would be over much sooner than walking and it would probably spare my poor nerves a bit.

Still, as we walked in silence, I realized that it was almost.. nice. Clark wasn't an intimidating person, he didn't find it necessary to fill the quiet with silly small talk and he was a perfect gentleman, so he was really good to walk with. As stupid as that sounds.

I noticed that he wasn't standing straight anymore, but slumping slightly, his head bowed, looking every inch the socially awkward reporter and not at all like the superhero he really was. I gained even more respect for him when I noticed how well he did his act. It couldn't be easy to constantly mind the way he carried himself.

We reached the street were the mugging happened. Clark kept walking, intending to pass it, but I turned and started down it. It wasn't as intimidating now as it had been two nights ago.

"Do you really want to walk here?" He looked surprised and slightly worried. I simply shrugged, "This street saves me ten minutes of walking. It's a nice short cut." I kept walking, and after a moment, he caught up with me.

"But aren't you scared it'll happen again?" I looked around as if to illustrate that there weren't any muggers hiding in any dark corners. "I'll manage. I doubt you'd let them hurt me anyway."

He sort of frowned as if he didn't understand my logic. I suppose he was partly right. This street wasn't the most peaceful in Metropolis and it was known to be the home of several muggings.

"Look," I sighed, deciding that I needed to put his mind to rest. "I promise I won't use this street after dark from now on, okay?"

"Good." He had slowed down while we had talked, but now he caught up to me again.

We reached the place where it had happened and I did my best to stop the shudder that went through me. He noticed it, but didn't say anything. I acted like it didn't bother me at all to see the exact spot, but it really did. I was still scared by what had happened, but I didn't want to appear weak, especially not in front of Clark.

To appear weak in front of someone so strong, someone who'd never been weak ever, was too much of a humiliation for me. I guess you could say I was too proud to do that.

We didn't say anything for the rest of the walk, but the silence wasn't exactly nice anymore. It was rather awkward. I tried to recall if any of things I'd said could be the creator of any awkward silences, but most things I said could probably be qualified as creators of horrible silences, so nothing really stood out.

Clark was walking absentmindedly, his gaze on the ground he walked on. I took a moment to study him. Suddenly, like a dog, his ears twitched and his head shot up. He stood still for a moment and then looked at me.

"I'm.. needed somewhere else." He admitted. He looked like he wanted to apologize, but I waved him off. We both knew that fighting crime was much more important than walking me home.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow, I guess." I said. We were only like, five minutes away from my apartment anyway. He offered me a relieved smile, and I realized that this was probably the first time he didn't have to conjure up some lie or excuse so he could go do superhero stuff.

In a way, it must've felt nice for him. Not having to lie to someone.

He certainly must've felt comfortable enough with me knowing, or just accepting enough, for now, because, right in front of my eyes, he flew off.

I stood a moment and watched, first the spot he'd been standing in, then the building he'd disappeared behind. The intense feeling that this was actually quite huge and slightly dangerous hit me, and I felt like sitting down for a bit. Instead, my shoulders tensed up and I briskly walked away.

As I walked the rest of the way by myself, I realized that that was what I could be: Someone who'd understand, perhaps even help him. As much as someone who's practically a god needs help, anyway.

But perhaps just understanding, accepting and not asking any questions would be enough help.

I shook my head to myself as I turned my key in the door lock. I was getting ahead of myself. How did I even know that he would want to be around me just because I knew?

I dropped my bag at the table and, only stopping to take off my shoes, I went for my balcony and my telescope.

On this specific October night, the sky was clear and beautiful, the moon only a small sliver of white, allowing the stars to reach their full potential. Of course, being in the middle of a city as big as Metropolis, the stars were fewer and duller than I would have liked.

I adjusted The Scope, as I liked to call it, and as I did, I contemplated whether I'd ever get to bring it with me to some place desolate, where the stars where brighter, so I would get to properly use it.

Finally tuning it perfectly, I shook those thoughts from my mind and instead focused on the universe my 'scope revealed.

I'm not sure how long I stayed up there, but I was stiff and cold when I came back into my apartment. Deciding that I didn't have the time or energy to cook some proper food, I made myself a sandwich and moved to sit in my comfortable chair, with my computer.

Whenever I get to watch the stars, I feel oddly at peace with myself. I find it easier to ignore the rest of the world, especially my own thoughts. Unfortunately, that doesn't make the thoughts and problems go away, and as I sat in my chair, waiting for my old computer to start up, the suppressed thoughts came back.

I was tempted to just go back and watch the stars for the rest of eternity, but I had a feeling that this time, not even that would stop me from thinking.

So I placed my computer on the table, with my dirty plate, and settled in for an evening of thinking.

Before, when my suspicions and theories had only been suspicions and theories, it had been a lot safer. Back when Clark didn't know, I hadn't had to worry about any kind of responsibility towards anyone. Now, I had to live with the knowledge that another humans life was practically at my mercy. He wasn't going to die if I told anyone, obviously, but I would successfully ruin his chances of ever gaining a normal life.

Before, when only I had known, I hadn't been a threat..

Nor had I had any potential interest to the criminals.

Lois Lane had been stupid enough to make it clear that Superman was her Super-boyfriend, and she's almost been killed several times. If anyone saw me socializing with Superman, it might put me at risk.

A shudder trembled through me when I realized that this could actually be _dangerous_ to me.

If people like Lex Luthor, who always seemed to be looking for new ways to get to Superman, found out that Superman and I knew each other personally, there was almost a hundred percent chance that I'd be a victim in one of his that was a scary thought.

I took a moment to give myself a firm talk, to calm down, and then I went to bed.

* * *

I've been sick for the last two days..

HnnnnnnNNg

Blarrggh

Erh, yeah, hope you enjoyed it. A lot of people looked forward to the Clark confrontation, so I hope it didn't disappoint. I'm sorry if it seemed a bit too laid back and un-dramatic, but this is a laid back story, soo...


	7. Birthday Plans

**Chapter 7**

**Birthday Plans**

Before, when my suspicions and theories had only been suspicions and theories, it had been a lot safer for me. Back when Clark didn't know, I hadn't had to worry about any kind of responsibility towards anyone. Now, I had to live with the knowledge that another humans life was practically at my mercy. He wasn't going to die if I told anyone, obviously, but I would successfully ruin his chances of ever gaining a normal life. And I wasn't sure I liked having that kind of responsibility on my shoulders. It wasn't like I couldn't have gone and done it before when didn't know, but for some reason all the horrible possibilities now seemed more final and likely to happen.

Before, when only I had known, I hadn't been a threat..

Nor had I had any potential interest to the criminals.

Lois Lane had been stupid enough to make it clear that Superman was her Super-boyfriend, and she'd almost been killed several times. If anyone saw me socializing with Superman, it might put me at risk. I know I wasn't Clark's girlfriend, but it was logical that any associate of Superman's would be at some kind of risk.

A shudder trembled through me when I realized that this could actually be _dangerous_ for me.

If people like Lex Luthor, who always seemed to be looking for new ways to get to Superman, found out that Superman and I knew each other personally, there was almost a hundred percent chance that I'd be a victim in one of his schemes. And that was a scary thought.

I felt a slight panic well up in myself, so I took a moment to give myself a firm talk, to calm down, and then I went to bed.

Sleep didn't exactly come easy, so I felt as horrible as I looked the next morning. Covering the bruise with make up after a hot bath, I looked significantly better. I didn't feel better, though. I thought about calling in sick, but I knew I needed the money, if I was to keep the apartment.

Yesterday evening, I'd gotten a text from my trusty bike mechanic, Mark, saying that my bike was repaired now and I could come get it. I left my apartment a bit early so I could walk to his shop and get it before work.

Once in, Mark whistled at my face. "You look tired, girly." He stated. I smiled good naturedly at him. He was straight forward, sometimes rude, but he was the best bicycle mechanic in town and he had kinda grown on me.

He cleaned off his oil-stained hands and dropped the rag on the table. "Yeah, I had a rough night." I explained

He jutted out his lower lip and nodded his head in pondering silence, probably totally misunderstanding what I'd said and now deciding that I'd had wild sex with someone.

"I'll be getting your bike in from the back, eh?" he said after he'd handed me the bill and punched the number into the cashier. I dug through my bag until I found my wallet and slapped the money on the table.

"This ol' thing is falling apart, sweetheart. Might save yourself some money if you just bought a new one instead of having me fixing it all the time." He said as he came out with my old and brightly purple bike.

He put it on the ground with a grunt, the bell ringing slightly from the jolt. I inspected the newest addition to its many fix-ups while he counted the bills on the table.

"Yeah, well I don't really have that kind of money right now." I admitted.

He chuckled a bit at that. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation. "Well, when do you ever, sweet-pea."

I left the shop a few moments afterwards, jumped onto the bike, and hurried to The Daily Planet.

Ten minutes later, I arrived. It felt really good to finally have my bike back. Getting around town was a lot smoother, easier, and faster.

I quickly parked my bike in front of the Daily Planet, and, knowing I was in no hurry, I took a moment to just stare at the vastness of the building. I'd been working there for months now and it still awed me. I eyed the roof and wondered if there was a door that led to the flat top, with the huge globe. Probably not. The wind was surely too powerful for it to be safe to be up there.

I got in and put my stuff at my desk. On my desk, as usual, was a fairly small pile of papers that either needed to be copied or send to someone, or other mundane tasks the reporters of the Daily Planet usually let me do.

I didn't mind, though. Without those small tasks, I would've been bored out of my skull in minutes.

Glancing around the room, I decided that I should probably get them their morning coffees before I ventured to the copy room.

Halfway to the kitchen area, I met up with Jimmy. He was very picky with what he drank, so he preferred to make his coffee or tea – or whatever he was in the mood for – himself.

"So, it's your birthday next week." I waggled my eyebrows at him and an excited smile crossed his face, on instinct. The smile fell soon, though, to my surprise.

"Ugh, don't remind me." He rolled his eyes dramatically, "My parents are coming over."

I made a grimace at that piece of information. I'd met his parents once, and they were both nutters, something Jimmy and I agreed on.

"Don't worry, I'll come over and help you clean and stuff." Jimmy's apartment was usually anything but suitable to show to his parents, and I knew he'd never get it fixed if he didn't have someone to kick his ass into motion.

He looked a little trapped now. He probably knew that I'd be less than kind and more like a slave driver. On the other hand, he knew that he really didn't have much of a choice.

"Okay." He accepted after a few moments of inner debate.

"You should invite some friends over so you aren't alone with them for an entire day. I need my only friend at work sane for a long as possible." I suggested.

He took a moment to look embarrassed. He opened the door for me and we entered the kitchen.

"I don't really have any friends beside you and Clark." He admitted. I filled the coffee machine with water and waited for it to boil. I directed a look of skepticism at him, but I could see on his face that it was true.

"You really are married to your work." I sniggered. "But seriously, Jimmy, that's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just invite me and Clark over then." I was unwilling to admit that at that moment, my motives were slightly egoistical. I wasn't willing to spend an entire day with Jimmy's parents without some sort of back-up and, besides, Clark's company wasn't something I'd object to.

Jimmy didn't pick up on this and simply nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I will." He finished his own coffee and nodded a goodbye to me, before leaving.

A few moments later, I had lidded and stacked the plastic cups on a tray, and was on my way to all the caffeine junkies on the floor I worked on.

When I got there, Clark had arrived. He smiled at me and nodded a greeting from his seat. I figured he only did it because I'd said "See you tomorrow" yesterday, so he felt like he had to acknowledge me somehow.

Once I set the coffee down at a table everyone came swarming to it, and I backed out quickly, to avoid getting trampled.

These people where like drug addicts at a death metal concert.

Once I got out of the way, Clark came over to me, surprisingly. He adjusted his glasses and I was reminded of how similar my own were. Now that I thought of it, we kind of had the same eye-color too, only mine were a bit greyer..

Obviously because we are soul mates. Totally meant for each other.

Anyway, he approached me and started _talking_ to me. He probably just loved to watch me squirm.

"I guess Jimmy invited you over for his birthday too?" He said.

I took a moment to reply, mostly because my first instinct was to tell him I had suggested that Jimmy invited him in the first place, so obviously I was invited. I had to almost physically force the words to not leave my mouth, because I have so little control over that life-ruiner. Usually sarcasm was just my first reply to go with, but I had to be mindful of that around him.

"Uh, yeah, he did." I fiddled with my fingers from nerves, "I promised to come over and help him prepare." I forced myself to add.

Clark smiled "That's awfully kind of you. " This guy spoke like such an old man. My knees got weak every time he said swell, it was so adorable.

"Thanks." I pressed my lips together and rocked a bit on my heels – a movement I did on reflex when I got awkward.

"So, do you plan on coming?" I asked after a few moments of silence. He pulled a face.

"I don't know if I'll have the time.." He gave me a meaningful glance and I nodded in understanding. I was reminded of the look of relief he'd given me yesterday, because he gave me one not unlike it at that moment.

Still, just because I knew why he might not come, didn't mean I would let him get off easily. I was _not_ spending an entire evening alone with Jimmy's parents.

"Jimmy will get really disappointed." I decided that since he was Superman, he wouldn't be able to stand to know that he'd let someone down.

He pushed his glasses up again. I was melting on the floor. He needed to stop doing those kinds of things. Like moving and breathing and just being alive. My heart couldn't take it.

"I know. I'll probably be there, just not the entire day."

"Oh, don't worry! It's only in the evening, like dinner and then hanging out afterwards." I got him. His need to be the hero won over.

"Well, then I guess there won't be a problem."

I resisted the urge to do a short happy dance and instead just smiled and thanked him. "You're not only doing Jimmy a favor," I admitted, "but me too. His parents are nuts. They scare me a bit."

Clark choked on his coffee. "You've faced a pair of muggers and an old couple scares you?"

"Hey, those muggers scared me too, if you recall." I pointed out. I lowered my voice so no one could listen in on the conversation.

Stupid noisy reporters, I swear to god..

"True." He looked at his wrist watch. "I'd better go. Got a deadline to catch." He flashed me a smile, but not the one he usually gave people, not a fake smile or an insecure 'Clark' smile, but a real Superman smile. It was devilishly handsome.

"Good luck." I didn't get to say more, because at that point three different reporters came up to me with jobs and favors for me to do.

I didn't get to talk to Clark for the next three days. Friday afternoon I went home with Jimmy and helped him clean his apartment. As usual, I had the weekend off, so Saturday I spent, once again, in Jimmy's company. We decorated his apartment and shopped for food. Jimmy might've been living off of microwave dishes, but I knew how to cook, so I stayed longer to prepare most of the food. His parents would come over on Monday, so we had loads of time to finish.

"Thankfully they don't plan to stay over this year." Jimmy told me while we prepared some of the food. Jimmy was cutting out strawberries for the ice cream and I was in the middle of making some dough for what would later become a cake. "They've rented a hotel room in the city, so they'll just be over for dinner."

"Lucky, eh? It won't be so bad this time. It'll almost be fun. Just you and your parents and me and Clark.." I trailed off.

He looked up from his knife and smirked at me. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you only asked me to invite Clark so you could spend an entire evening with him."

_Well, yes!_

"What? No!"

He rolled his eyes at me.

"If you have to roll your eyes, I suggest you roll them back to what you're doing with that knife before you cut yourself." I dryly suggested.

"Ow!"

"Told you, you idiot!" I groaned loudly as I added another egg to the dough.

He held his hand up and wrapped a paper towel around it to stop the blood flow, looking for band-aids.

"Where do I keep those stupid things!?" He growled in frustration after a few minutes of unfruitful search.

"In the third cupboard to the left, second shelf." I said absentmindedly, my head bent over the brown dough.

"How do you do that?" he said when he had the band-aids in his hand a few seconds later.

I shrugged. "I'm a girl." I said, "I think it's genetic or something." He snorted and cleaned his hand before donning a band-aid. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrow at it. His band-aids were those little children ones with motives, this particular one with Superman-logos.

"Besides, I did just help you completely re-establish this place." I pointed out. "I put them up there earlier this morning."

After finishing up the cake-dough, I put it in the fridge with the promise to came back and finish the cake on his birthday.

On that note, I packed up my things and headed home. Jimmy waved at me in the doorway and I sternly told him to take care of his apartment: I did not want to re-clean it this Monday at the last minute.

It was pretty dark out, when I left the building his apartment was in. I shuddered slightly at the dark. I'd never had trouble with darkness before, not until the incident a few days ago, so the shudder didn't come without a certain amount of annoyance. I remembered that I'd promised Clark to be extra careful, so I was quick to unlock my bike and I worked it a lot harder than I usually did. I was home five minute earlier than the ride normally took me.

Sunday rose nice and sunny, for late fall, and I was up early to go to church. My parents had always made it a point to go every Sunday, and the habit had stayed with me. I wasn't necessarily that religious, but I liked to think that god existed.

Later, when I was home again, Diana called to know if I could hang out. I had a ton of studying to do, so I declined.

_"I have to catch up." I apologized. _

_"Don't worry, kiddo-" _

_"I'm a month older than you."_

_"- I'll just find something else to do. Catch ya later!" _

Mildly exasperated and amused at the same time, I set the phone down on my table again once she finished the call. She'd probably wound up at my place anyway, despite my decline and her claim that she'd find something else to do, so I set to work at a fast pace to get as much done as I possibly could before she arrived.

A couple of hours passed when the doorbell rang. For a moment I figured it was Diana, when I remembered that she had her own key, and that she never forgot that key.

Taking the computer from my lap and placing it on the table, I frowned at the door in confusion and went to answer.

"Yes?" I asked over the phone attached to the doorbell down on the street.

"Hey, Georgia, it's Clark."

My heart stopped beating for a moment, and the insane need to laugh bubbled up. Clark coming to my apartment?

I forced myself to stay calm.

_Be cool._

"Oh, hi, Clark! Can I help you?"

_No genius, he just likes ringing on peoples doorbells._

"Yeah, I actually need your advice on something. Can I come in?" I wanted to tell him, _trust me, no you don't, you don't want my advice on anything,_ but I held it in and bit my lip as I took a quick look around the apartment. Not too messy. I could probably get rid of anything messy before he reached my door. I was on the top floor, after all.

I realized that I might have taken a little too long to answer, so I quickly turned back to the phone, "Sure!" Pressing on the button that allowed the door downstairs to open, I only waited for his word of thanks before dashing into the apartment, picking up stray pieces of clothing and dishes.

I threw the dishes into the sink as fast as I could without breaking them, threw the clothes into my room and closed the door.

A few seconds after, he knocked on my door.

I froze my frantic movements and took the door in. Behind that wooden surface, was an angel. With the face of an angel.

And, as I liked to assume, the body of a sex-god but let's not talk about that.

I shuffled to the door, looking about for any potentially embarrassing artifacts, but I deemed it sort of okay for him to see.

He'd already been there once before anyway.

"Hi!" I beamed at him. He returned the smile and said. "Hello."

I realized that he probably wouldn't come in until I invited him to do so, so I took a step back, let go of the door, and said, "Please, come in."

"Thanks." He said and nodded once before stepping inside.

He looked good in my apartment. Or, rather, he made my apartment look good.

"Erh, would you like anything?" I was really horrible at playing host. "Coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks, I'm fine. I-" Here he looked rather bashful and scratched the back of his neck, "I need your advice," he admitted.

Once again, I felt like protesting at that. He was smarter than me, why would he want my help?

"Sure, anything." I said. I sounded a bit desperate in my own ears, but brushed it off.

"You know Jimmy a lot better than I, and-" He laughed a bit, which did nothing to calm my racing heart. "I need some advice on what I should give him. On his birthday, you know."

"Oh!" I let out a laugh of relief. That was easy! "Well, he likes a lot of weird stuff. He's into comic-books." I enlightened, "Also," I snickered a bit, "he likes superman-merchandise." I laughed openly at the look on his face.

"I can't go out and buy some merchandise with my face on it!" he protested, "How narcissistic would that be?"

"Well, since this is Jimmy, I'm sure you can sacrifice you honor and do that little thing." I smirked, "Or you could get him one of those expensive watches. He's wanted one of those for a while now." I joked.

He pursed his lips in thought and nodded. "Alright. Thanks for all the help. I'll.. see you tomorrow?" he sounded a bit hesitant so I instantly replied, "Sure!"

He flashed me another adorable smile and then excused himself.

After he left, it took my heart at least five minutes to calm down again. It was really hard to concentrate on the conversation, when my mind was so busy conjuring up scenarios involving him, me and my bed. Or sofa. Preferably the bed.

As I calmed myself down, I entered the kitchen, checking if I might've succeeded in breaking dishes after all. The huge load of dirty dishes slowly claiming my counter and sink seemed to burn accusing holes in my skull, so, with a resigned sigh, I stacked them neatly and started cleaning them.

* * *

I have the house all to myself this afternoon and evening.

Hellooo loud singing and eating in the sofa!

I guess this could be considered a filler, but here was a lot of interaction between Clark and Georgia, and the next chapter is really awesome (I can't wait to show it to you guys!) so I think you'll have to forgive me.


	8. Some Birthday Party

**Chapter 8**

**Some Birthday Party**

I was almost late for work the next morning. I knew I wouldn't have time to go home after work to change clothes and fix my hair and make-up, but I had forgotten all about that the day before, so I was dashing around my apartment like a maniac, packing my things and trying to figure out what I wanted to wear. I was immensely happy for my bike being fixed those few days before; otherwise I'd have been really late.

I was so not mature or responsible enough to live by myself yet, it's a miracle I hadn't burned the apartment down yet.

As it were, I made it with only a minute to spare. When I came in, I was almost immediately greeted by Jimmy, who looked a bit sick. His slumped over to me and we walked down the hall together to the elevator.

"They came this morning." He announced, "I convinced them to spend the day in the city. I'd feel better knowing that they aren't walking around my apartment while I'm not there." I nodded, understanding and patted him on the back.

"It's only today. We can do it." I reassured him. The elevator 'dinged' open and we stepped into it. It filled with people to the point where I had my back pressed against the metal back wall of the device. "And who knows? It might even be fun." I grimaced and cocked my head to one side, shrugging, "In a sarcastic, ironic, bitter and self-harming way."

Jimmy grunted out a laugh, which was what I had been aiming at. He stood a little taller and looked less green in the head than before.

"Yeah. In any case, it'll be funny in a few years." He said. I nodded my agreement just as we reached our floor and got out.

"I'll see you after work!" I said over my shoulder and hurried to the kitchen area, to make the usual morning coffee.

I was positive that it was going to be perfectly okay. True, I did recall his parents being horribly cringe-worthy, but it was just them, Jimmy, me and Clark there. What could go wrong? There wasn't anyone powerful or important coming, whom his parents might insult, and, besides, we didn't have to spend the entire day with them, now that they'd gone sight-seeing in the city and had rented a hotel room. Jimmy and I had loads of time to prepare dinner, while they were out, and everything was going to be a-okay.

Everything did not go a-okay.

His parents were both pure devils spawn. They were worse than I remembered. And louder than I remembered. His mother, a slight woman with blond hair, whom Jimmy had obviously gotten his features from, had a high pitched voice that was impossible to miss in a crowd. She talked a lot, all the time actually, and her husband was just as bad.

Jimmy's dad, tall and sporting a mustache and a comb-over, was a retired military man, who still talked with a loud and authoritative voice, like we were all his soldiers.

His parents came back to the apartment at about five thirty, so Jimmy and I were all done with the food once they arrived. I had conquered Jimmy's bathroom and changed my work clothes into a nice shirt and black skinny jeans, did my hair, and fixed my make-up in there. As soon as I came out, they came marching into the apartment, talking loudly about how nice Jimmy's furniture was.

Introductions where made, then Clark arrived ten minutes later, and we all sat down to eat.

"So," Mrs. Olsen said after only a minute of silence, "Are you Little Jimmy's girlfriend?" She looked expectantly at me.

"Erh, no. I'm single." I admitted, "I'm just a friend and colleague."

"Shame." She said, and her husband grunted in what I think was agreement. They didn't feel the need to add anything else to the subject.

_Okay.._

We ate in silence for two minutes next, and then Mr. Olsen popped the next question; "So, young man." He fixed his hawk-like stare on Clark, whose eyes had widened comically at the sudden approach, "Have you ever been in the army? Served your country?"

"No, I'm afraid not, sir." Clark put his fork down, "I've never been, expect for that one time where I did an article on the army."

Jimmy's father 'harumpf'ed and muttered something about irresponsible youth. I felt that this was a little unfair, since Clark had saved countless of lives, as Superman. He had probably done just as much for the world as our military had.

"Oh, Richard!" His wife chided, slapping his lightly on his arm, "Not everybody wants to join your silly little army!" she looked at us and rolled her eyes dramatically, sighing loudly, "Men and their careers!" She staged whispered, putting a hand up to cup her mouth, "They always think theirs is the only right one."

Mr. Olsen looked offended at his wife, but before he could say anything else, his wife started talking again. She put her hands together and rested her chin against them, smiling sweetly at Clark.

"So, Clark, dear, if Miss Logan here isn't Jimmy's girlfriend, are you his boyfriend?" Jimmy choked loudly on his drink and Clark's eyes widened comically, just as he accidentally knocked his knife off the table, catching it before it hit the floor. I would've found Jimmy's choking amusing, if I hadn't been sitting next to him, heightening my risk of getting elbowed in the face or getting his drink spilled on me. I reached out and patted him on his back, taking a moment to be impressed over Clark's good reflexes when he caught the knife.

"Mom!" Jimmy groaned loudly, "I'm not gay. And neither is Clark!"

"Shame. I have nothing against homosexuality, and you seem like such a nice young man." She sighed, like she wished Jimmy would settle down with Clark, which I found a little disturbing, since one was my really good friend and the other was my long time crush.

"Yes," Jimmy's father grunted, "I must admit, despite the fact that he's never been in the army, he is quite a fine specimen."

Clark looked like he wanted to jump out the window. Jimmy looked like he might join him. The whole thing was so awkward.

I found it both horrifying and amusing that he was speaking to his wife, and not Clark, like the subject of the conversation wasn't even in the room. Clark was totally blushing, and Jimmy looked like he wanted to die.

"Yes, very well-built." She agreed. They seemed to have forgotten that we were in the room still.

"I suppose it's a good thing he not gay, then." The former general said, "He needs to pass his genes on to the next generation." He turned to Clark again," Tell me, boy, have you ever considered become a sperm donor?"

"Wha-" If possible, Clark was even redder in his face now, and I wasn't sure if I should join Jimmy and make it a double suicide, or just faint from suppressed laughter instead. "Excuse me?" Clark cleared his throat and pretended, maybe really hoping, that he had misheard Jimmy's dad.

"Dad!"

"Son, there is nothing wrong with passing on good genes. It's like horse breeding." His mother said. She tsk'ed at her son, her and her husband talked a bit about a TV-show they'd seen on horse breeding, and then both started eating again, ending the conversation.

At least, I had hoped that it was the end of the conversation. Clark and I shared a look of total horror and confusion; his cheeks still a little red. I suddenly realized that Jimmy's mom had compared Superman to a breeding horse, and I felt the need to laugh all over again.

When I looked back again, I saw that Jimmy's mother was looking at us.

"You would make a very cute couple." She observed.

I needed this woman to stop pairing me, Jimmy and Clark up with each other.

I really wished I hadn't just swallowed a piece of meat, because just as she said it, I took a sharp intake of breath, and the meat lodged itself in my throat. It was my turn to choke now.

I coughed desperately, trying to get the meat out of my throat, but it was pretty nicely stuck. My head turned redder and redder and my eyes started to water.

"Oh my god, she's choking!" Jimmy panicked.

_Brilliant observation_, I thought.

His father looked up with a frown, as if I paid him a personal insult by choking in the middle of his meal, and Mrs. Olsen just panicked along with Jimmy. I sprung up from the table, my bracelet accidentally getting hold of the tablecloth and pulling it harshly. Glasses fell, plates and cutlery rattled loudly, pots wobbled and tipped, and the whole table was a mess. Mrs. Olsen squeaked and Mr. Olsen jumped up from his seat because a glass of wine fell and spilled its content in his lab. I didn't have time to think much about the others distress, since I was a little too busy choking on a piece of boiled pork.

Clark stood up and dragged me with him to the kitchen, stood behind me and gave me the Heimlich.

.. That's right; he performed the Heimlich on me.

I'll just run that by you again:

Superman

Dragged me

Into the kitchen

And performed the freaking Heimlich on me.

In the two seconds it took him to get behind me and squeeze, I managed to think 3 thoughts:

First of all, I was freaking out from the choking.

Secondly, I managed to appreciate how my back was pressed firmly against his well built chest. (I was choking, yes, but I was still aware of my surroundings, and I was a straight female with an attractive male holding me tightly, so don't judge me.)

Thirdly, I realized what he was about to do, and I was terrified that he would crush me with his superhuman strength.

Then it was all a bit of a blur because the meat suddenly decided to rejoin the outside world and crawl back out of my throat.

I survived, but as I wheezed up a gross piece of chewed meat and spit it in the sink in Jimmy's kitchen, I realized that my pride was dead and buried already.

"Are you alright?" Clark asked, concerned. I stood heaving air in at the sink, my hands gripping tightly onto the table.

"I will be, once I murder that woman." I growled. Not the most charming thing I could say in front of my crush, but the whole situation as entirely un-charming, so I decided I didn't care.

Clark looked like he wanted to laugh, "You look like a mess." He admitted. He fished out a handkerchief (why am I not even surprised he has one of those?) and handed it to me.

I wiped my eyes free from the tears, cursing silently when I remembered that I hadn't used water repellant mascara. There were black smudges on the handkerchief, where it had wiped my eyes. I turned on the water and just washed the entire thing off. I'd rather not be wearing any make-up than have it leaving trails down my cheeks.

Clark handed me a towel and I wiped my face. "Thanks." I said, letting a small laugh escape my lips, once I realized how amusing the whole situation actually was.

We walked into the living room again, met with the worried inquiries of Jimmy and his mother, and the total indifference of his father. I could see that Jimmy and his mother had managed to salvage most of the dinner, and had cleaned up the spilled beverages.

"Are you okay, dear?" his mother asked, concerned. I forced a smile.

"Fine, Mrs. Olsen." I said through clenched teeth. Clark held my elbow and guided me back to my seat.

The accident thankfully seemed to have somewhat put a lid on Jimmy's parents, because they were a lot more agreeable the rest of the evening.

Or maybe I was just under the influence of more wine than was strictly necessary.

Three hours after we finished dinner, his parents said they'd better get going.

"We have rented a hotel room and I'll be damned if we aren't there to use it! Waste of money!" His father gruffly said as a farewell and then marched out the door.

As soon as they were out of the apartment, I kicked off my shoes, collapsed in an arm-chair, threw my head back and groaned loudly and for a long time.

"Jimmy, I'm never coming over for you birthday again. Ever." I said.

"Yeah, me neither." Jimmy said. Jimmy smirked and I returned it. We both knew that I'd be back next year. I'd never let a friend down, let alone leave them helpless with their parents for an entire evening.

I motioned for the bottle of wine on the table. It was a very expensive bottle, but it wasn't the real wine in it; Jimmy and I had bought a cheap wine and put that in the expensive bottle, to avoid trouble with his dad, who took his wine seriously.

"Give me some, will ya?" I asked. Clark reached for the bottle and handed it to me, sitting down on the couch, which, together with the chair I was in, created an 'L' shape in front of Jimmy's small television.

I filled my glass more than was necessary. I really wanted to get hammered.

Jimmy set his glass down on the coffee table that separated the couch and TV.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked.

Clark shrugged. I thought he might want to leave soon, since he hadn't been out as Superman yet tonight.

"Well, we have the entire evening, don't we? I'm not busy." He gave me a sideways glance, knowing that I'd understand the double meaning of his words.

I set the bottle down on the table again, taking a long sip from my wine.

"Let's eat a lot of junk and watch a movie or something." I suggested.

Neither male objected to that idea. While Jimmy was in the kitchen, finding whatever candy or snack he had in store, Clark and I went through his movie collection.

"Camp Rock?" I asked, "Really?" I held up the offensive DVD, wondering what on earth it was doing in Jimmy's otherwise flawless DVD collection.

"I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for that." Jimmy shouted from the kitchen, entering with a few bowls a moment later. "I just can't remember that reason."

"Whatever. I bet you love girl movies." I said and returned to the cupboard with movies. So far, Clark hadn't made any comments yet about the movies, just silently going through them.

Soon, all three of us were sitting on the floor in front of the TV, discussing which movie we should watch.

"We should play a drinking game." I decided.

"You just want to get drunk." Jimmy snickered.

"Hey, I almost died!" I said, referring to the pork-meet-throat incident, "It was a very traumatic experience that I plan to block out with the help of my friend, Alcohol." To prove my point, I took another long drink from my glass.

"So: drinking games." I concluded, once no one complained. "Know any?" I asked the boys. Jimmy and Clark both shook their heads.

"Well, I know one, but it only works with Star Wars, so.." I pulled out The Empire Strikes Back, expectantly.

Once again, neither man complained, so I popped it in and settled back into my chair, wrapping a blanket around me.

The wine had done wonders to calm my nerves; otherwise I would've been a stuttering mess in front of Clark, instead of acting so confident.

I quickly wrote down the rules on a piece of paper and handed it to Clark and Jimmy.

"I hope you both remembered to take tomorrow off from work, because this game is going to leave a hangover." I admitted after starting the movie.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Clark suddenly said. "Your birthday present." He pulled out a neatly wrapped little rectangular box and handed it to Jimmy, whom happily accepted it.

It was a really expensive watch.

Which I had, jokingly, might I add, told him to buy. I was surprised to say the least. I think my mouth might've dropped open a bit. Clark smirked at me, knowing very well that I had only jokingly mentioned that watch. Jimmy seemed even more surprised than me, but also eternally grateful. He put it on immediately.

I fake-glared at Clark, who looked entirely too satisfied with himself.

We tuned into the movie again after that. An hour in, I felt myself drift off to sleep, aided by the fuzziness too much wine brought.

I don't know how much time had passed, when I was suddenly being shaken awake again.

"Georgia, it's time to wake up." It took me a moment to register whether it was Jimmy or Clark talking. I yawned and opened my eyes, meeting the ridiculously blue eyes of Clark.

"What time is it?" I asked tiredly.

Jimmy checked his new watch, "Past one a.m."

I groaned loudly and flopped back into the chair again, registering that Clark's fingers were still wrapped around my bicep.

He took hold of my other arm and hauled me up on my legs. "Come one." He said, "I'll walk you home."

I tried to tell myself that he was only offering because it was late at night and he didn't want me to get hurt, but I was always too good at deceiving myself and my brain came up with fifteen different reasons for his offer.

"Okay." I shook my head to clear it, slipping my shoes on again. Looking around for my bag and jacket, I found them in the kitchen. After a glass of cold water, I announced that I was ready to go. The three of us stood in the hall, saying our goodbyes. Jimmy looked very bleary-eyed, obviously tired himself.

Once we reached the street, I let out a long yawn, revealing just how tired I actually was.

We'd only walked a few meters before Clark suddenly grabbed my arm and led me to a dark side alley, which would've been totally sketchy, if it hadn't been Clark.

"What're you doing?" I felt the need to ask. He looked around briefly, confirming that we were alone.

"Come on." He held out his arms, as if asking for a hug, and I was starting to get a bit confused. I just raised my eyebrows in question at his actions.

"You're exhausted." He pointed out." I'll take you home."

"Uh, yeah, you were taking me home, until you decided to drag me into this alley." I pointed out, my brain not catching on.

"No." he said, "I mean, I'm _taking_ you home."

It took me two seconds. Then;

"Oooh."

He still stood there, his arms at his side now, waiting for me. I felt my palms get sweaty, and I grew nervous. Deciding to suck it up, I walked up to him. Besides, how often would I get the chance to be in his arms? I stepped up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His arms held me tight around my waist, and I was suddenly wide awake, very much aware of how close he was.

I held his eyes for a few moments; then I had to redirect my gaze. Looking down, I saw that we were already in the air, and I let out a breath in surprise, holding on tighter.

He took me up much higher than was strictly necessary, probably to avoid people seeing us. It should've been cold, but he was so warm that I hardly felt the autumn wind. He turned me over so I my back was against his chest, allowing me to look down at the rooftops.

It was beautiful, and I was glad for the opportunity to see the city like this. The first time he'd flown me, I'd been too tired and drained and generally freaked out to register anything. It seemed my body was bent on making up for that, because everything seemed to be twice as sharp and noticeable and it felt like I was taking in every detail this time, my senses working overtime.

It only took him a few minutes to find my apartment, where he landed on my balcony. He set me down, hovering in the air himself.

"Goodnight, Clark." I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around myself now that his warm body wasn't close to mine anymore. "And.. Thank you." I was referring to both his attendance at Jimmy's birthday dinner, and him flying me home, which he knew.

At that moment, I was completely calm and comfortable in his presence. I don't know if it was the alcohol, I don't know if it was because I was tired and not thinking straight, or because the night was so beautiful and he had held me so gently, only that I didn't feel my palms go sweaty from nerves or my heart beat faster with panic.

He warmly returned the smile. "Anytime."

* * *

For some reason, I kept writing 'catched' instead of 'caught' and now I feel like a total dipshit.

*Insert obligatory sound of complaining*

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, I hope I didn't make the parents too over the top or anything, I just felt like writing some really embarrassing shit.

Have a lovely day everyone and don't forget to review!


	9. The Not-Date

**Chapter 9**

**The Not-Date  
**

After Jimmy's birthday, the weeks kind of seemed to fly by me. I had decided to put some more effort into my evening lectures, so I hadn't had much of a social life for at least a month now, other than the small-talk I made at work.

That small talk was mostly with Jimmy and Clark, whom I had developed a slow friendship with at this point. I didn't talk as much to Clark as I did Jimmy, but I still had a few short conversations with him. I had wanted to befriend Clark for so long, and now that it had happened, I found that it was a lot easier than I had originally thought.

Clark was such a thoroughly nice guy; he was really easy to talk to, despite the nerves I got, because I still had feelings for him.

So, basically, things were looking up, life was great, and I forgot to be the permanent pessimist I usually was.

So, when I walked into the office and saw Clark talking to Lois Lane, it caught my immediate interest. It was clear that he was trying to strike up a conversation, but that she hardly paid him any attention at all. I felt my blood boil a little at that.

After settling down at my desk, I couldn't help but start an inner discussion with myself.

First of all, how could she pay so little attention to such a perfect human being? Honestly, Clark had practically everything: He was smart and polite, he was really good looking, he knew how to treat his fellow human beings and he was really good to talk with.

The realization that Clark was actually in love with Lois Lane, and she barely even registered his existence, hit me like a ton of bricks. The fact that she had harbored so many feelings for Superman, but failed to notice that he was right in front of her..

I didn't know whether to just decide that she was a really shallow person, who went after muscle and looks, or just was genuinely uninterested in any man who didn't save her ass all the time.

I felt a surge of sympathy for Clark. His heart had been broken by this woman, and she would never know. She had thoroughly rejected him, without even realizing it and it was eating away at him.

It wasn't really that obvious that he was hurting, at least not to an outsider, but as I looked at the blank look his face suddenly took on; I knew that it was hurting worse than he cared to admit – even to himself.

It made me wonder if Clark was even truly happy, or if it was all a mask. After all, what did he really have beside working and saving people as Superman? Did he have any friends? Hobbies? Things that he enjoyed doing? My guess was no, he didn't. He wouldn't have time for any of that.

The idea grieved me and I spend the rest of the day working as hard as possible to not think about it. At the end of the day, after waving goodbye to him, and him returning it with a happy smile, I promised myself that I was going to push away all my nervousness and selfish attractions, and actually focus on being a proper supportive friend.

I mean, so far he'd trusted me with quite a big secret, and even though that one wasn't revealed voluntarily, I didn't think he'd mind sharing a bit more with me.

I had almost reached the elevator, when I gathered all my courage and turned around, marching right back up to Clark. I walked as fast as I could, so I wouldn't chicken out and turn back around. At this point, I couldn't anyway. He'd already spotted me.

"Hey!" I breathed, once I reached his desk.

"Hi Georgia." He smiled politely, but he looked a bit confused as to why I had suddenly approached him.

Looking around, I noted that there was no one near us, since most of the office had already left for the day. I didn't need any gossipy reporters to spill that I was getting close with Clark Kent.

"So listen, I've had a really hectic month, and I really need to relax this weekend, but neither Jimmy nor my friend Diana can hang, so I was wondering," At this point, I had forgotten how to breathe. I was rambling so fast that I suspect even Clark's superpowers weren't helping much with keeping up.

Inside, my mind was going _Georgia, stop, what the fuck are you doing, don't ask him to hang out, don't, no, stop, no, stop, this is a disaster, oh for goodness sakes BREATHE YOU MORON. _

I sucked in an awkward breath and let out a breathy laugh. "I was wondering if you'd like to hang out at some point, during the weekend. If you're not busy, you know."

I felt like I'd completely put myself at his mercy, which I suppose I really had. Despite earlier promises to shut my stupid nerves up and act like a proper friend, my heart was going faster than the rotor of a helicopter.

My left arm was behind my back, hand bunching my jacket into a tight fist. _Please, please, please._

"Well, sure." He shrugged nonchalantly, like this hadn't just been the most paranoia inducing moment of my life, "I'm busy Friday, but I should be free most of Saturday." He provided. I was relieved when he didn't act like I'd asked him a really strange question. He looked at me expectantly, probably waiting for me to tell whether Saturday was good for me too.

_Baby, for you, every day is just perfect. _

_.. Shut up brain! _

"Saturday isperfect!" I quickly answered. "Saturday is totally great with me."

He nodded and picked up a pen. My stomach dropped to my knees, when I saw that he was writing his number down, handing the slip to me afterwards.

I was going to own his phone number.

No, no, no, you don't understand:

_I _was going to own_ his phone number_.

"Call me and we can agree on the details." He stood up and gathered his things, waving at me over his shoulder, "See you tomorrow!" He jogged for the elevator, stepped inside, and disappeared behind the closing doors.

I still hadn't moved a muscle. I hadn't even blinked

Because, you see, I now owned his phone number.

I hadn't owned the phone number of one of my crushes since seventh grade, because I had this nasty habit of falling for guys way out of my league.

I smiled widely and almost did a happy dance, but then I remembered that Clark had x-ray vision, and he might still be able to see me. So, stuffing the number as casually into my bag as possible, I made sure to _casually_ stroll to the door, and _casually_ wait for the elevator.

Once I reached the street, I still walked nonchalantly, grabbing my bike quickly and hurried home. As soon as I entered my apartment, I squealed long and loud, clutching the little piece of paper in my hand, jumping on the spot.

Knowing that Diana, whom had been there for me since the first time I started getting feelings for Clark, would probably want to hear about this new development, I called her.

_"Yo." _she said, after three rings of her phone.

"Diana! I have news on Mission Clark." – Her name for what this was, not mine.

_"So, spill!" _I knew it would catch her interest, since she was a bit of a gossip, and loved romance.

"I asked him if he wanted to hang out this weekend, and he gave me his phone number so I could call him and decide what we should do." I said, "I have his phone number!"

_"Dude, I'm so proud," _She sounded genuinely surprised, "_You're finally coming out of your shell. My little baby is all grown up!" _

"Funny."

"_And it only took you like, eight months! Honestly, with the speed you're going at, you'll be sprouting small Clark babies in no time!"_She was of course sarcastic, considering how she could land a guy in two hours and I normally took, well.. months. Some people were just more gifted than others.

"Shut up." I checked my watch, "Listen, I'm really hungry so I've got to go make dinner. I'll talk to you soon."

"_See ya." _

"Good luck on your date!"

_"Sweetheart, unlike you, some of us don't need luck." _

I let out a laugh at her confident reply and then hung up.

When I told Clark that neither Jimmy nor Diana could hang out, I was telling the truth. Diana had a date with her newest fling, and Jimmy was visiting his sister for the whole week, so I really didn't have anyone else I'd want to hang out with. It was sad, but I only had three friends, if I included Clark.

I decided that calling him tonight was too soon, so once I ended the phone call with Diana, and added Clark to my contacts, I went to the kitchen and prepared dinner, just like I said I'd do.

I had placed my computer on the counter and started it up, hoping to catch some news while I prepared dinner.

Despite my computer being the slowest one in the entire Metropolis, I still managed to go online and find the news site right on time for the 6 pm news.

I was shocked and worried to hear that there had been a massive prison break the night before, letting at least fifty dangerous prisoners run free. The reporter advised to be careful, since many of these prisoners were violent and dangerous. There were even a few rapists and murders amongst them.

My run-in with the two muggers flashed through my head a few too many times while I prepared dinner, so I ended up cooking the meat for longer than originally intended, leaving it dry and hard to chew.

My thoughts weren't on the meat, though. The thought of more people like those two muggers suddenly running wild in the city was enough to make me want to never leave my apartment again. I was suddenly hit with an intense wave of fear, like a late reaction to the traumatic experience I'd had, and I found myself wanting to cancel the plans I had made with Clark, to stay safely in my apartment.

But of course I realized that I was safer with Clark than anywhere else in the entire world. If anyone could protect me from bad people it was him. On that note, I decided to send him a message instead of calling him. A message was a lot less clingy, since he could answer whenever he wanted, so I considered it a lot safer. I would have time to think what I was going to say too, so it really was a lot more sensible on my part to just send him a text.

After writing and informing him that it was me that was texting, I asked him, if he still wanted to hang out, if he had any ideas for what we should do.

I shoved a few books out of the way on my table and replaced them with a plate, a glass and cutlery.

I let the news keep going while I ate, my thoughts not on dinner, despite having looked forward to this particular meal of meat, potatoes and gravy.

I was halfway through my food when my phone beeped to life at an incoming message.

It was from Clark. I knew because I'd added the number to my contacts before sending the text, but that didn't stop me from getting a bit too worked up at the thought of him sending me a text.

_'I don't really know.'_ It started, referring to my former question of what we should do. It continued with _'We could just do something casual. Perhaps dinner at a restaurant and then just walking around the city?'_

In my head, I forced myself to repeat the mantra "this is not a date, just friends hanging out" ten times, before I was able to answer. It suddenly occurred to me that the whole thing might've sounded a lot like a date to someone else.

I mean, two young adults eating at a restaurant and strolling through the streets afterwards? Sounded like a date to me. But no, it was just friends hanging out.

Just friends..

Hanging out.

_'Sounds great!'_ I replied '_but perhaps we should make that dinner a lunch, since I have to get up early the next morning. I hear the weather is supposed to be good on Saturday anyway, so I'd love to spend the day outside.' _

I set the phone down and continued eating, trying to convince myself that I was _not _eagerly waiting for his reply.

In those few minutes of waiting, it dawned on me that I was going to be _alone_ with Clark for an extended period of time. I'd have to form intelligent conversation without backup, and prevent a heart attack, all by myself.

A really scary thought.

My history of being alone with Clark hadn't exactly been successful. The first time I was, I got the heck away from him as soon as possible, I _hid_ in a bathroom stall for half an hour, for goodness sakes! And the second time, I was being saved by him from muggers, but he was Superman at the time, so it doesn't count. The third time I was caught between being scared that he'd turn me into a grease-spot on the sidewalk because I knew about his secret identity, and telling myself that he would hurt me just because I knew, and the fourth time I was under the influence of alcohol and he had to help me cough up a piece of gross meat from my throat.

Not a bunch of great experiences if you ask me.

So, yeah, I was a bit unprepared for spending several hours, unaided, in his company. I swallowed my last bit of potato just as I resolutely decided that I was going to have to deal. I _wanted_ to hang out with him, right? So what was the problem?

.. That I got reduced to a nervous mess around him. But that didn't matter. I was going to relax and have fun. He was just another human.

Alien..

Kryptonian – thing..

Oh god, I was going on a date with an alien!

_Not a date!_

"Not a date." I mumbled to myself, just as my phone lit up. He had replied.

I quickly picked it up, almost dropping it in my glass of water in my haste.

'_Sure, lunch sounds great.' _It said. And, just to bring me as much inner turmoil and struggle as possible, he finished with, '_it's a date!' _

_It's not a date! _

_At least, not a date-date._

Yeah.. Sure..

Not a date..

The next Saturday, Metropolis didn't seem to realize that we were already in the middle of November, as the weather was just as sunny and warm as it would be in September. Clark and I had agreed to meet up outside the Daily Planet, because he had an article he needed to hand in before taking the day off. He had written it the day before so he was absolutely sure that Perry White wouldn't ask him to stay at work.

I was pretty sure the huge building was halfway between our two separate flats, so it was a fair place to decide to meet, despite the fact that Clark could travel faster than a speeding bullet, if the rumors were true.

I was standing outside the building at ten in the morning, hoping I wasn't either later or early.

A fresh wind caught the hem of my jacket and I quickly closed it, knowing that despite the warm sun and nice weather, it was still autumn and the wind was a bit chilly. After a few minutes of looking at all the busy pedestrians, I sighted Clark, who was caught right in the middle of a large crowd, which was unfortunately moving in the other direction. He bumped into several people and apologized profusely, which I found endearing. I had always been attracted to the well-mannered ones.

And now I was going on a date with one.

_Not a date!_ I reminded myself, shaking my head to clear it. There had been no agreement between us that this was a date, nor had any mutual feelings been confirmed, so it was technically just an afternoon of hanging out together.

Once he reached me, he smiled pleasantly and greeted me. "Hi, Georgia!" He sounded enthusiastic, like he was actually looking forward to spending an entire day in _my_ company.

..What a silly idea, Georgia. Nobody wants to spend hours with an idiot who can't seem to form coherent conversations in their presence!

But still, he had agreed to hang out with me, which must have meant that he didn't think I was a _total_ screw-up.

I still couldn't believe I had actually decided to do this. It seemed too risky.

I returned the greeting quickly, averting my eyes and spotting the folder in his hand.

"Is that the article then?" I asked and motioned for it.

He held it up and looked at it, "Yeah. I'll go give it to him now. Do you want to come or just wait here?"

The impulse to show the fact that I was hanging out with Clark off to the rest of the office was what made me agree to come with him. I knew that rumors would probably blossom, and I knew that I hadn't wanted anyone to know earlier, but I figured I wouldn't mind after all. There was no shame in being friends. A rumor of me dating Clark wasn't exactly evil or hurtful to me, so it didn't matter much.

In a matter of minutes we were back on the street, and for a moment I wondered if going up there and feeding all those bloody journalists with ideas had been a bad idea. We hadn't even managed to re-reach the elevator before people had started whispering.

"So, what do you want to do now?" he asked politely. I wasn't entirely sure. I wasn't hungry yet and I would never admit it, but I was too low on cash to do anything too fancy. Pay-cheque day couldn't come soon enough.

I shrugged at him, "I dunno. I'm not hungry. Maybe we could go to the park? I love that place." I admitted, shrugging again to appear nonchalant, like I wasn't having a full-blown panic attack raging inside of me.

"Sure," he said after a moment, "I like the park too."

* * *

This is early, I know. The thing is, I'm going to be without internet for the next three days, so I had to update either now or Sunday evening, and I figured you would appreciate it if I didn't make you wait.

It's like, eight o'clock int he morning where I am right now, but my first to periods have been cancelled, so I had time to upload.

Have an awesome weekend peeps!

Don't forget to review!


	10. That Long Conversation

**Chapter 10**

**That Long Conversation**

We walked in silence for a few minutes and I was left to ponder on how much of a fiasco this not-date already was or wasn't. I wasn't sure that the moment. It could go both ways. Once we reached the park, I was pleasantly surprised to find it mostly deserted. Usually it was filled with families and I almost always ended up walking into children and knocking them over. Trust me; it had happened more than once. Once, I had accidentally knocked some kids ice cream out of his hand and the little boy had started crying until I gave him a new one.

We continued to walk in the increasingly uncomfortable silence. Was the silence even uncomfortable? Did he think it was uncomfortable? Was I overreacting?

_Shut up!_

I desperately wanted to start a conversation, but every time I tried to come up with a topic, all I could think about was questions about Superman, and I certainly wasn't starting a conversation about that. Not when I didn't know how he felt about me knowing, or if he was comfortable with me talking about it.

"Soo.. Nice weather..?" I said, just as we simultaneously turned and walked down a stone path that led towards a small pond and later into an area covered with trees.

"You know, it is okay for you to ask me about you-know-what." He suddenly deadpanned. For a moment I considered going 'Pfffft, where'd you get that idea from? I don't have any questions about Superman at al!' but then I realized that such a reaction would be embarrassing to him, and that he already knew that I really wanted to know about Superman. Besides, who wouldn't have a thousand questions to ask, if they were in superman's presence?

"Thanks goodness, because I have so many questions!" I blurted out before I had the time to consider a more appropriate approach.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile at that. "I understand why you'd be curious. I guess it was a bit unfair of me to allow you to know about it and then not tell you anything afterwards."

"So, can I, like, just ask away?" I asked a bit timidly.

"Sure." He laughed.

After that confirmation, I fired my questions faster than a machinegun could have.

"Is it true you're faster than a speeding bullet?"

"Yes."

"Can you seriously look through anything except lead?"

That one made me blush a bit, because my scumbag brain took that and turned it into something unnecessarily dirty.

"Yeah."

"How much weight can you lift at the same time?"

"I-" He hesitated a bit, "I'm not entirely sure. I've never tried to reach my limit."

We had already walked past the pond now, and were now headed into the more tree-filled part of the park. The wind was starting to slowly pick up, though not to the point of it being annoying.

"Hm.." I pondered over that for a moment. I felt like I needed to come up with some more interesting questions at this point.

"Am I the first outsider who knows about The Thing?"

He was silent for a moment, and looked at me like he was trying to decide whether he could tell me or not. "No.." He admitted after some time. I was really surprised to hear that, but waited for him to tell me in his own time. A fairly chilly wind suddenly blew around us and I dug my hands into the pockets of my coat to keep them warm. "Lois knew. Once.. Several years ago. She figured it out by herself" he turned took look at me, seemingly studying me for a moment, "Just like you did."

"Well, actually, the first person to be suspicious was Richard White. I just drew inspiration from him." I admitted. A muscle in his jaw seemed to clench at the mention of Richard White. I then registered what he'd told me.

Lois?

Out of all the people in the world, I had expected her to be the last to figure it out. Not because she was dumb or anything, but because she seemed to think a bit lowly of Clark, and she obviously thought of Superman as the greatest things since pancakes with ice-cream, so I hadn't thought she'd ever make the connection.

Looking over at Clark, I could see that his jaw was still clenched up, and before I could stop myself, this happened:

"You loved her." I stated after a moment. I noticed how our conversation seemed to have taken a more serious turn than it had initially been.

He tensed up and looked at me incredulously, like he was surprised I knew. "Scratch that." I said, "You still love her."

"I-" He didn't seem to know what to say. I was surprised I had been bold enough to say it, but now I couldn't take it back and I needed to go through with what I had started instead. I thought he might've planned to protest, so I decided to try and change topic as soon as possible.

"It's alright, Clark, I won't tell anyone."

He smiled gratefully, but still seemed uncomfortable with me knowing. I could understand why. It was a pretty personal situation. "How did you know?"

"Well, once I found out you were Superman, you became the most interesting thing at the office." I was trying to say 'I'm totally stalking you' as non-creepishly as possible. "And I'm very observant. It was pretty obvious the first months after your return, but it hasn't been as obvious lately."

I regretted saying the last part, because it sounded a bit too much like I was deliberately trying to make him admit that he didn't love Lois anymore so we could fly into the sunset together. It was not what I had meant at all, I was just being honest, but I feared that he might've taken it that way.

"It's.." He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, "complicated." A pained look crossed over his face and he buried his hands in his pockets. "I – I just don't know anymore."

"Don't worry. Feelings have this nasty habit of progressing all by themselves without telling us, and then suddenly someday they'll violently and unexpectedly shift from what they had just been into something completely different. I'm sure it'll all work out."

I was really horrible at giving advice, but he had just completely opened up to me and I felt like I had to say some form of reassurance.

We were silent for some time after that, just strolling down the path we had chosen. I thought I could recognize this particular path, but I couldn't recall when I'd walked on it before. The trees suddenly gave way to a huge crater-like hole in the ground. No, not crater-like; it was a crater. I recognized it immediately as where Superman – Clark – had crash landed those nine months or so ago.

I wasn't entirely sure if I had led us there of if Clark had. Maybe neither of us had, maybe both. But here we were. We stopped walking, standing completely still. I studied the hole in the ground itself and then the small info-plate that was stood next to the crater, probably there to inform people of why the crater was even there in the first place.

Clark stepped up to the info-plate and ran a hand over it, wiping away leaves, lost in thought. I stayed behind, allowing him some space. He turned his head around and looked at me, and I finally stepped up next to him. Side by side we stood, looking into the crater. I was impressed by the sheer size of it, and I was suddenly struck with awe at how powerful the being next to me was. The fact that he wasn't human at all, but some alien form of higher civilization, much, much more progressed and intellectually ahead of humans. It made me lose my breath. For a moment I felt like touching his arm, just to make sure he was even real, because how could he be? How could such a being exist? How could it find me worthy to even spare a glance at?

I managed to regain my breath some minutes later and finally squeezed out, "It must be hard." My voice was a lot lower than I had expected, but I knew he could hear me.

He didn't answer for a moment, but then he turned slightly, so he was facing me rather than the crater. "What?" He asked.

"To have so much power." I said a little louder. Finding it difficult to look at his face, I stared unblinkingly ahead, into the crater. "To be the most powerful being on earth, to have done so much good for humankind, but still having to hide behind a secret identity, still having to work like a commoner and not receive the praise you really deserve."

"The life of a reporter is not so bad." He assured me after a stunned silence. He smiled a bit and then added, "I'd rather live as a normal reporter with a normal life than be Superman all the time. I'd never get a moments peace, I wouldn't be able to walk in the street unnoticed. I wouldn't have the kind of freedom I have now."

"I suppose that's true." I said. I didn't mention that he hadn't said anything to correct me on not getting the respect he rightfully deserved.

"Don't worry about me, Georgia." He said seriously, "I'm fine."

But I think we both knew what he really weren't.

A surge of sadness shot through me. I realized that besides Jimmy, and now me, Clark probably didn't really have any friends. The woman he was in love with barely recognized his existence, he had a stupid job at a stupid paper.. He did so much for this world, and yet the world never gave him anything. It felt so unfair. The world had simply come to expect him to save the day without any fuss or any gain.

I shut up after that, feeling, and knowing, that I had probably stepped over some sort of boundary and that I need to take a few steps back. Oddly enough, I felt a lot calmer around him by now. He had told me that I was allowed to talk about Superman, and the fact that his other life was no longer a taboo put me at ease. I felt like the tension had decreased because we could be more open with each other.

Trying to find a subject that wasn't quite so boundary seeking, I pointed out something from our earlier conversation.

"Wait, you said Lois knew about it once? Doesn't she know anymore?" realizing that that might not have been the best thing to ask if I was aiming at stepping away from boundaries, I quickly added, "If you don't mind me asking. You don't have to tell me."

He reached up and scratches his neck, frowning slightly in thoughtfulness. I left like smacking myself in the face. It was probably something that he wanted to talk even less about.

"It was about six and a half years ago, or so. She figured it out by herself." He looked at me, almost with appreciation and repeated what he'd said earlier. "Just like you." Being compared to Lois Lane wasn't necessarily much of a compliment in my book, but coming from Clark, I knew that it was.

"We tried to make some sort of relationship work, but I ended up doing something reckless, just to be with her." He pressed his lips together, like he was reliving a memory, a memory he wasn't proud of. "In the end, it put a lot of people in danger and I realized that I had to erase her memory to keep her safe."

I wanted to tell him to stop. I could see on his face that it pained him to talk about it, and I felt like I was the last person in the world he should be telling all of this to. I didn't want to hear anymore, not only because it hurt him, but because it hurt me too. With every word that left his mouth, it became clearer and clearer that any kind of relationship that was more than friendship, was never going to happen between us.

"Why are you telling me all this?" I whispered some time after he had stopped talking.

"Because you asked."

Ouch. That made me feel even worse. I wanted to apologize, but he turned to me then and smiled gratefully. "And you're the first person I've ever met who actually cares to listen to what I have to say. It's nice to have someone listen. I don't mind telling you these things." He admitted.

I returned the smile, relieved that he thought that highly of me.

"I'm glad I could help." I smirked. He returned the smirk with one of his own, and we turned back to looking over the crater. I was smiling, but inside I felt horrible. I felt horrible because I had affections for a man who could probably never return them, and even if he did one day, he'd never act on them because he would want to protect me. Then I felt horrible for only caring about my own selfish needs, and thought that I should've been feeling horrible on his behalf, since his life story was so tragic.

"I was really worried about you, you know." I suddenly murmured, without much thought.

He raised an eyebrow, "when? And why?"

I motioned for the crater, and we both knew immediately what I was talking about. "You know, Mr. White had made two editions of the Daily Planet that day. One said "Superman is Dead" and the other "Superman Lives"." I noticed Clark subconsciously wince and then his hand reached up and rubbed his side, like he could still feel the stab wound from the kryptonite. "I stayed late that day, just sitting at my desk and waiting for him to bring out either one of those papers. Waiting to find out if you had died or survived."

"Did you already know about it back then?" he asked, referring to me knowing about his secret identity. He sounded impressed, whether because I'd figured it out so early on or because I had managed to keep it a secret for so long, I didn't know.

"I had my beginning stage of suspicion. It certainly helped the suspicion along that you didn't come in to work for five days." I thanked my genes or complexion or whatever that I never blushed; otherwise I been so red I'd be been visible from space at the moment.

He nodded solemnly, clearly remembering his days in hospital.

We stood silently for at least five minutes. I could feel my nose growing colder with the wind.

"It's impressive you've known for half a year without accidentally revealing it to anyone." He suddenly said. I was relieved because he'd been the one to start a conversation this time, and I had honestly felt like I was beginning to annoy him with all my talk. I got the feeling that he didn't really want to talk about his hospital days.

"Well, who says I didn't tell anyone?" I playfully nudged his side before saying, "Kidding. I swear I haven't told anyone."

"I know." He didn't return the nudge, but he did return the grin I'd offered, "I trust you."

A warm feeling pooled into my very core. Most people might not have thought that a guy telling you he trusted you was the big of a deal, but he had basically just said that he trusted me with information so secret that it'd ruin his life if it came out. I hadn't thought much of it before, but I actually held a lot of power over his life. And he trusted me with that power.

"Thanks." I widened my grin to a smile, before adding, "You must've been pretty distrustful earlier, though."

"I was!" He was quick to agree. "I kept a close watch for some time, but in the end I decided to try and trust you and, well, you haven't proven my trust wrong yet."

Deciding to pretend that he hadn't just practically admitted to stalking me, I jokingly wrinkled my nose and, in a mock offended voice, said, "Do I come across as the kind of person you can't trust? I need to work on that!"

"Nah, you don't really. I just didn't give your intelligence the credit it rightfully deserved when we first got acquainted." He admitted. "I sort of thought of you as a typical ditzy office girl, who only knew how to make coffee and do other people's bidding."

.. Okay, that was probably not meant to hurt me in any way, but.. _ouch,_ just seriously, _ouch._ Was that really how I came across at the office? Did all of these stupid reporters think I was a brainless coffee-making monkey?

"Gee, thanks." I kind of choked out. My mind wasn't entirely in the conversation, I was a little too busy wondering if the people I thought of as stupid and annoying on a daily basis actually thought that _I_ was the stupid and annoying one.

"As I said before, I didn't give your intelligence enough credit." He quickly added, probably because his brain finally caught up with his mouth and he registered what he had said. He ran a hand through his hair, messy it up deliciously, and continued. "I know you're not stupid, Georgia."

"Thanks." I smirked; pleased that he thought I wasn't stupid. "But seriously, thank you for trusting me. It means a lot, especially when the secret is as huge as yours."

I tilted my head to the side in contemplation. "You could've just erased my mind, couldn't you? You mentioned erasing Lois' mind, so that must've been possible for me too."

He sort of chocked at that and I swore his cheeks turned just a bit redder. I didn't want to know.

"Extracting someone memory isn't something you just _do." _He revealed. "It requires certain.. aspects that probably wouldn't have been entirely appropriate to do to a random woman."

After that semi-confession, I was almost sad he hadn't erased my memory. I didn't know exactly what these 'inappropriate aspects' were, but I probably wouldn't mind them.

"Besides, I wouldn't know what memories to erase. It was different with Lois, because I knew exactly when she first started suspecting something."

"Oh." I said, "I suppose that makes sense." At that moment, I decided that I wasn't ever going to tell him when I first had my suspicion, because if I didn't, he couldn't ever erase my memory. It made me feel better knowing that he couldn't. I knew that if my knowing about him being superman would ever bring me in danger, he'd want to erase my memory immediately, so it felt like an extra reassurance that I kept the information to myself.

Wind suddenly rose and blew my previously controlled brown hair all over my face. It was a cold one, and I felt it slip under my jacket, making me shiver.

"Let's get moving." I suggested, "Before I freeze my butt off."

* * *

Aaaaand scene

That was what I like to call a shit-load of talking and character relationship building.

I hope it didn't bore you.

Just a heads up: My exams are coming up, so For the next month or so, I probably wont be able to update. I'll keep writing, but mostly to get ahead with chapters, so once my summer vacation starts, I'll have some brand new awesome chapters for you guys! I might update next weekend, but I can't promise anything.


	11. The First Week of December

**Chapter 11**

**First Week of Christmas**

Clark didn't look cold at all, but he still nodded and went with me as I took off down the path that would eventually lead us out of the park. I was a little jealous of his Superhuman-whatever at that moment.

Okay, yeah, not just at that moment, I was permanently jealous of his Superman powers. I wanted to be able to fly and look through stuff and break shit without hurting myself. On the other hand, I didn't want the kind of responsibility that came along with those powers. Maybe it was best that I just stayed a perfectly normal human.

As we continued down the path, it suddenly hit me that I wasn't in the middle of hyperventilating. I was actually quite at ease. The fact that we had talked together, shared something we couldn't share with anyone else, it had somehow made me relax around him. I felt that because we had one thing in common that we couldn't share with anyone but the other, we had become confidential. The thought made me smile a bit, mostly from relief. It would've sucked if I was doomed to forever be a nervous wreck whenever he was near.

We reached the outskirt of the park after a few minutes of walking in a friendly silence. The wind had picked up so it was much colder than it had been before, and my hair was blown everywhere once again. It was ridiculous. I couldn't see anything because of the wall of hair, so, instinctively I grabbed hold of Clark's arm for guidance.

"I can't see a bloody thing." I grumbled and tried to sweep some of it away from my eyes. He laughed heartily and placed his right hand on top of the hand I had wrapped around his left arm, patting it a few times. It was a slightly old school, kind of grandfatherly move that me him all the more adorable. Just like when he said 'swell'.

"Don't worry; I'll make sure you don't walk in front of a bus." He dropped his hand again, but kept our arms intertwined and I was left wondering when we'd become close enough to walk arm in arm down the street without it seeming weird. We probably looked like a perfectly cute geek couple to other people, with his glasses and neat hair and gentlemanly jacket and nice pants, and my glasses and overall geek aura.

_Stop thinking like that._ I firmly told myself. I knew that a relationship between me and Clark was probably completely off the table, especially given the things he had told me about his last attempt at a relationship.

We reached the street now and stopped, neither knowing what we should do next.

Clark, ever the gentleman, turned to me and asked, "So, what do you want to do now?"

I really didn't know, but I knew that if I just shrugged and said' you decide' I'd seem uninterested or lazy and expecting him to entertain me, and that was not the image I wanted to get across. I figured I was a bit hungry, so I went with that.

"We could find some place to eat?" I suggested. "Get me out of this cold?" We both smiled a bit at how I hadn't mentioned him getting out of the cold either. It was funny how his powers sort of were an inside joke that we already seemed to have formed.

He suggested a Chinese restaurant he'd heard was supposedly really good, and I had to sheepishly admit that I didn't like Chinese.

"That's okay," He laughed, clearly amused with my embarrassment, "We'll think of something else."

It was amazing that someone with such a sad story could be so happy. It was really inspiring.

After strolling down the streets for some time, we stepped into a nice little café that looked really cozy. The tables were small, with comfortable chairs, and soft music played from the radio. It was one of those places where the food was prepared in the same room you ate it in. We sat at the bar, Clark ordering a sandwich and me ordering a pasta-salad thing with lots of bacon in it that tasted great.

After all, bacon is a vegetable, right?

We ate mostly in silence, which I was thankful for, because I just couldn't eat and talk at the same time. I always made a mess that way. I was glad I had chosen something that could be eaten with cutlery this time, instead of that pizza I had the first time we ate together.

A small TV was placed in one corner of the bar and I noticed Clark following the news with great interest.

I started to pay attention too, just as a 'breaking news' sign flashed and the blonde news reporter said something about a hostage situation in down-town Metropolis.

Clark cleared his throat and determinedly said, "I'll.. go use the bathroom." He turned to me and winked and I smirked, subtly giving him a thumbs-up with the hand in my lap and then turned back to the TV.

Ten seconds later, a red-and-blue silhouette zipped past the café window, just as the reporter said, "We can only hope that Superman hears the news and saves the day, once again."

I felt myself frown at her words. It dawned on me just how dependent Metropolis had become of Superman. We had almost become lazy, always expecting Superman to save the day. What did they plan to do once Superman got old and died? Then he wouldn't be able to keep saving the day.

And save the day he certainly did. Only a minute after Clark had excused himself, Superman was at the crime scene. Two minutes later, the reported visibly showed relief as she announced that Superman had successfully saved the hostages and the wrong-doers were now being handed over to the authorities.

In the background, I could see Superman talking to the police officers, looking devastatingly handsome. Despite my earlier musings about becoming too dependent on Superman, I felt a surge of pride.

Five minutes later, Clark had finished his 'bathroom break' and came back in, fully dressed. I had to admit, I was impressed. He must've become incredibly fast at dressing, considering how long he'd been Superman and had to do a speed-change.

"Did I miss anything?" He innocently asked.

"Oh, yeah, Superman just saved a bunch of people." I said with enthusiasm, "it was awesome!"

"Did he now?" Clark said, his eyes glinting with mirth.

"Yup. It was pretty cool." I smirked, "However, he seemed to be getting lazy. It took longer than usual. He looks like he's gained a few pounds around the belt too.."

Clark raised an eyebrow, like 'Oh, really?' in a silent response to my light mocking and I couldn't help but laugh. A lopsided smirk graced his face and he ordered another drink from the bar as he sat down again.

I was left in amazement over how fast I'd become comfortable enough around him to jokingly accuse him of getting fat without breaching any boundaries.

We idly chatted as he finished his beer, this time me being the focus, since we'd spent most of the day talking about his double life. We covered different things, like childhood and friends and education. Boring stuff, really.

"So, parents?"

I shrugged, "Lives in New York. My dad's a cop; my mother's a teacher at an elementary school. Pretty average. Both in their mid fifties.." I smiled wryly when I thought about how extremely ordinary my life was, especially compared to his.

"I'm an only child, because my mother was involved in an accident and couldn't get pregnant afterwards.." I admitted.

"I'm sorry." He said. I shrugged it off.

"Don't be. Can't miss something I never had, right?" I smiled at him to show that I wasn't bothered by it.

"I'm an only child too." He admitted.

"Yeah, I guess we would've known if _you_ had any siblings." I winked at him and finished my own drink, digging into my purse to pay for my food.

He did the same, and we left the café. I had halfway feared that he would offer to pay for my lunch too, since that's what gentlemen do, and I was relieved when he didn't. It would've felt too much like a date if he paid for my food, too. He must've reached the same conclusion.

We walked around for a bit, stopping every once in a while to look through shop windows.

"That." I said, pointing at an extended edition box-set of Lord of the Rings. "I need that." It was beautifully displayed in a movie shop window.

"Want to go in?" Clark asked.

I sighed wistfully at the box, but shook my head. It was beautiful, but the price-tag was really ugly news. "I can't afford it. Not so close to Christmas, anyway." I admitted. "I'll just tell Diana that it's what I want for Christmas. She's filthy rich so she always gives great gifts."

I was a bit embarrassed when admitting that I couldn't afford it, but I knew Clark wasn't the type to judge.

He shrugged, not dwelling on the matter.

"I've never seen them." He admitted after I finally managed to haul myself away from the shop window and we had continued further down the street.

"WHAT?" I all but shouted. He jumped a bit, surprised by my sudden outburst. "But they're.. They're the greatest movies since EVER. How have you succeeded in avoiding them? I mean, the third movie won eleven awards! That's, like, the highest amount of awards ever given to to a movie!" I was surprised he hadn't watched them, to say the least.

He shrugged." I think they came out while I was.. Not on earth. And then when I came back, the hype had died down, I guess. I know they were insanely popular, but I never really watch movies a lot."

"Oooh." I nodded. "Well, now I know what we're going to do next time we hang out!" I flashed him a sideways grin and elbowed him slightly. He returned the grin. For a moment, I was afraid he was going to say 'what makes you think I want to hang out with you again?', but of course he didn't.

In fact, he didn't look like the prospect of hanging out with me again was the most repulsive thing he'd ever heard. He looked like it wasn't such a bad idea.

"Sure."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

We continued walking, until I saw the time. It was already five pm. I had a pile of homework waiting for me at home. I had to get up early the next morning.

Crap.

"Woah, look how late it already is!" I exclaimed.

He looked at his watch himself. "Yeah. Time flies by fast in good company."

I smiled gratefully at the compliment. "I'm really sorry Clark, but I think it's time I head home. I still have homework."

He nodded, understanding.

"I'll walk you home."

_._._._._._._._.

A few days later found me hanging out at a clearance sale with Diana. We'd been wandering aimlessly around the city for some time when I spotted the sale and decided that my meager paycheck could handle a bit of clothes shopping when the clothes were fifty percent off.

"So, how did your not-a-date-but-totally-a-date-date go?" Diana asked as she picked up a brightly orange t-shirt with one finger and threw it down again like it was contaminated.

"Not a date." I grumbled from behind a cute black and dark purple dress that I was seriously considering buying. It could go well with my hair and complexion.

"Sure. Whatever." She waved my denial away. "But how did it go?"

Folding the dress and tucking it under my arm so I wouldn't lose it, I considered her question.

"It was nice." I admitted. "We had a great time. It turns out that he's extraordinarily easy to talk to."

"That's nice." Diana nodded, presumably in deep thought. She held up a t-shirt with a cartoon-y shark on it and regarded it before shrugging and draping it over her arm with the rest of the clothes she'd found. "So, did you bang him?"

"Diana!" I spluttered. I had progressed beyond being surprised by her constant crude remarks, but that didn't mean I didn't get embarrassed by them. "No! I told you, it was just a – "

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she rolled her eyes at me, "just a friendly date between two friendly friends. What's wrong with being friends and having great sex at the same time?"

"Dude, this is not a subject that should be discussed in public." I growled/whispered at her after noticing a mother with two children giving us the stink-eye.

"Besides, you don't even know what he looks like. How do you know he's not four foot five and has crooked teeth?"

"Because, Georgia my dear, despite your other faults and defects, you have really good taste in men."

".. I decide to take that as a compliment." I settled with saying after a moment, and then walked over to another clearance table, this one containing shoes.

"I'm starving like a teenage boy in the middle of a growth spurt, let's go eat somewhere." Diana said once we had left the shop, each with a decent sized bag of new and cheap clothes, and my wallet screaming at me to end its emptiness and stop buying shit.

"Sure." I shrugged. "I know this great little café that serves great pasta-salads.." I suggested.

"Meh. Pasta-salads are boring." She pouted. "Too much salad and pasta and too little meat."

"Their sandwiches are great too." I coaxed.

"Is there bacon?" She squinted her eyes at me.

"All the bacon you could possibly want." I smirked, figuring I'd have her hooked with that comment.

"I resent that. No amount of bacon, not matter how large, will ever qualify as all the bacon I could possibly want."

Still, we went, me never mentioning that it was the same café Clark and I had been at a few days before.

_._._._._._._

I had the next Friday off, and since it was the first week in December, Diana and I decided to go celebrate the upcoming Christmas by going out. We agreed to meet at the same café we'd eaten at a few days before, the café Clark and I had been at too, which Diana still didn't know.

She'd probably just tease me if she knew.

Anyway, I'd gotten quite fond of the café in the short time. The owner was nice, a middle aged man with thinning hair and a growing belly. His wife was even sweeter. She had a slightly worn look about her, but you could tell she'd been beautiful in her youth. She liked to sit down and talk when the café wasn't busy, and didn't mind me not ordering a whole lot, since I couldn't afford to eat out all the time. I usually just ordered a coffee or something and we'd have a pleasant chat.

The first day I came back after Clark and I's not-date, she'd smiled sweetly at me and asked how my boyfriend was. I had blushingly said that he wasn't my boyfriend, but that I was sure he was fine.

It had pleasantly surprised me that she could actually remember me after only one visit to the café.

During one of our chats, she had told me that the café was quite popular as a late night bar too, so Diana had succeeded in coaxing me into going there at night and see what it was like.

We went at nine pm Friday evening, Diana absolutely determined to get moderately drunk and have fun.

I just planned on surviving a night with potentially drunk strangers, all dancing and talking and a lot of them probably trying to get laid.

On our way there, I suddenly spotted Clark, of all people, walking a hundred feet ahead of us in the opposite direction. In just a small moment, he'd pass by us. I gripped hold of Diana's arm, getting her attention.

"That's Clark!" I hissed at her.

She'd never seen Clark and she had no idea what he looked like, so that exclamation probably didn't help much.

She squinted her eyes at the people-filled street. "Where?" she asked.

I didn't get to answer, because just then Clark caught sight of me and smiled brightly at me.

In case you were wondering, yes, that did totally turn me knees into jelly.

"Hey Georgia!" he said cheerily.

"Oh my god, hi!" I sounded surprised, like I hadn't spotted him at all. I was a bit panicked over Clark meeting Diana. She was probably far too crude for his taste and I wasn't sure I wanted him to know that I had weird friends just yet.

Still, I forced myself to introduce them. "Clark, this is my best friend Diana, Diana this is Clark, one of my friends from work." I said, saying it in a way that made it sound like I'd never mentioned Clark to her before.

"Oh, reaaally?" Diana drawled, and I could see her eyes roaming all over him, mentally judging whether I'd done a good job this time or not. "Nice to meet you, Clark."

"Likewise, Miss Diana." Clark replied nicely, still a pleasant smile on his face. He turned back to me. "It was rather fortunate that I found you; I've been meaning to ask you a favor."

"Oh?" I said, hoping it wasn't a favor I'd epically fail at. "What can I help you with?"

"I've been thinking about writing an article on the reporter education and I was wondering if I could do an interview with you, seeing as you're in the middle of that education."

"Wow, erh," I was a bit surprised, to say the least. He actually wanted my opinion on something that was going to become an article, he wanted to ask me questions and print them in one of the biggest papers in the city. "Sure, why not." Insane.

I couldn't say no, obviously, not with his big blue eyes looking so hopefully at me.

"Swell!" he said, which made Diana snicker slightly, "I'll call you later and arrange the details."

"Sure. We can meet over lunch or something. I'm the whole weekend." I replied, hoping it didn't sound too desperate.

"Me too. How 'bout we do the interview tomorrow? Over lunch?" He asked.

"Sure!" I smiled.

He looked at his watch and did a double take. "I'd stay and chat, but I've actually really got to be going now. Thanks again. I really appreciate your help."

He gave me a one-armed hug around my neck and shoulder, which I only partly managed to respond to, not only because it happened so fast, but because I was distracted by my face coming into contact with his firm chest.

I smiled in reply and he briskly continued down the way he'd been heading before.

Diana whistled slightly under her breath.

"And _I _really appreciate your _ass._"

"Diana!" I groaned, knowing that with his super-hearing, Clark could probably hear her. On that note, I decided to quickly tug her along, not wanting her to start talking about my crush when he might still be within hearing range. I made her turn around from her obvious staring and continued down the way towards the café.

"Georgia, I know you said he was good looking, but, _damn_, that guy is smoking!" She said. "Well, a bit geeky with the glasses and a bit too polite, though I get the feeling he's working a fine body underneath the clothes, so –" she suddenly broke off, a look of realization on her face. "Oh my GOD, he's like the male version of you! You basically have a crush on yourself! You even have the same glasses, you narcissistic little shit!"

"We do not have the same glasses at all." I grumbled. She laughed loudly and ruffled my hair, which I really didn't appreciate.

It was with a sigh of relief when we finally reached the café.

"How about I break one of your legs, would that be geeky and polite?" I suggested and stepped inside.

"Aw sweetie, you'd never do that. You're too geeky and polite." She smirked. She jumped onto a bar stool and I placed myself in the one to the right.

"I think I'll get a beer." She decided, "you?"

"Just give me something with alcohol in it." I groaned and rested my tired head against the bar counter.

"Tough day, sweetie?" The owner's wife, Lizbeth, asked me before opening Diana's beer for her and placing a shot of some kind of alcohol in front of me.

"I've been spending it in her company, what do you think?" I complained and pointed towards Diana. Diana just shrugged innocently at that. "You love me." She said nonchalantly and took a swig from her beer.

Lizbeth looked like she completely felt my pain and pushed the shot further towards me. "It's on the house." She said.

I downed my shot, only cringing a bit at the taste. I had never been the biggest fan of alcohol that hadn't been mixed with something.

"But seriously, he just arranged a lunch-date-interview-thing with you. That's a great sign!" she started chugging her beer.

Diana put the bottle down again, letting out a content sigh and smacking her lips once. She then proceeded to turn around in the chair and lean against the counter, obviously spying for an attractive male she could sink her claws into.

I quickly ordered another shot. This was going to be a long night, I thought with a sigh.

* * *

I guess this could be considered late, but since I said I couldn't guarantee that I'd post at all, I think you should be grateful anyway.

My first exam is this Tuesday, and it's something as horrible as a combined Geography-Biology-chemistry oral examination, so wish me luck.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave a review if you did.

Also, I think it's far to warn you all that this chapter will be the last chapter I post for some time. I've run out of chapters already written, and I want to at least have a few in spare. It's a lot less stressful that way.


	12. A Hospital In New York Part 1

**Chapter 12 **

**A Hospital In New York**

Two hours later, the café-turned-into-nightclub/bar/whatever was starting to fill up with people. It was clear that despite the café small size, it was still popular and attracted quite a lot of people.

Diana was on her fifth beer, talking animatedly about some guy getting fired from her workplace that day. I was holding onto my second helping of some exotic beverage of some kind. I wasn't entirely sure what its name was, but it tasted good.

My phone beeped to life, signaling an incoming text, just as Diana finished her story. I quickly checked the phone. It was my mother.

I thought it was strange, since she usually never texted me, preferring to call. Originally, I figured it could wait, but a nagging feeling told me to read it.

_'Sweetie, please call me when you can, it's about your father. Love, mom.' _It said. I felt my stomach drop. I turned back to Diana to tell her that I was going to go outside and call my mom, but she was otherwise distracted.

A young man – kid – probably no older than nineteen, with curly hair and a big nose was talking to her, obviously trying to flirt. Judging by the nineteen to twenty-one year old boys sitting at a nearby table, snickering and looking in the guy's direction, I'd say he had fallen prey to a dare or something.

Diana looked incredibly uninterested. She looked a bit on her phone's screen, pretended to write a message, (I could see her screen from where I sat, and it wasn't turned on, so I knew she was just pretending) and then gulped down some more beer.

Finally, he seemed to lose all concept of subtlety and said something about 'getting it on' in that uncharming, forward, and gross way only a hormone-controlled teenage boy can do it, which seemed to get Diana's attention. She lifted her gaze and looked at the boy for a moment, before wrinkling her nose and saying, "Seriously? You're, like, ten." She then returned to her beer and phone. The boy who had previously looked very confident seemed to deflate and his ears burned a bright shade of red as he mumbled, "I'm Nineteen.." and then walked off a few seconds later to the sound of his friends laughing uproariously.

I had gotten a bit distracted by the scene, but the text wasn't gone from my mind at all. I tapped her on the shoulder and leaned in closer so I could properly communicate with her over the loud music.

"I've got a phone call to make. My mom texted me." I said. "I'll be right back." She nodded and gestured for me to go.

"I'll be right here, if you need me." She said around the mouth of her beer.

I grabbed my purse and went outside, groaning when I saw that it had started raining. Finding a dry spot under a large tree, I pulled out my phone again and quickly found my mother number.

"_Georgia?"_ She picked up after the third ring.

"Yeah, mom, it's me." I breathed deeply, hoping that she wouldn't bring me any bad news. "What's up?"

"_Oh, sweetie.." _She sounded like she'd either been crying, or was trying not to. My heart sped up and I forced myself to take another deep breath. "_Your father's in hospital. He-" _she sniffed loudly, her voice cracking slightly. I could already feel tears pressing on from behind my own eyes.

"_He ha-had a heart attack."_ She finished.

I felt like my world had come to a complete stop. If it hadn't been for the constant dull 'thump-thump-thump' of the music from the café, I'd have seriously believed that time had stopped.

"I- I'm.. Is he going to.. to survive?" I questioned, feeling my own voice crack.

"_They don't know yet – they suspect he's got a – a blood clot near the heart."_ Every single word that left the phone served to dig the hole of grief I was standing in deeper and deeper. I was absolutely terrified.

"Mom, I'll come home as soon as I can." I promised, ignoring her protests, "I'll try to be there by-" I looked at my watch. Almost midnight. "I'll call you back when I know precisely. I'll-.. I'll see you there."

I ended the phone call and leaned against the tree trunk, afraid that my legs wouldn't be able to support me anymore.

My daddy..

I felt the tears start to fall, and it was like they pushed me into action. I didn't have time to have an emotional breakdown under this tree; I had to go see my dad.

I was halfway down the street when I remembered that Diana was still waiting for me in the bar. I quickly dug under another tree and texted her, telling her that I was really sorry, but something had come up and I really had to go.

I was crying openly now, incredibly grateful for the rain because it kept the streets mostly clear, and if anyone happened to pass by anyway, they wouldn't notice my tears mingle with the raindrops on my face.

The doctors had warned us before that my father might get a blood clot at some point. My grandfather had died from one and now one might take my dad away from me too. He wasn't exactly Mister Healthy either, which served to heighten the risk. Not that he'd ever taken the risk too seriously. He likes to say that doctor's are worrying and fussing over the smallest risks and that they vastly exaggerate how bad your condition is.

I wasn't thinking straight at all as I walked down the street. All I knew was that I needed to get to New York as fast as possible, and I'd probably have to go by train, since I didn't own a car. In a coma-like state, I walked down the streets of metropolis, no longer noticing the cold and drenching December rain that chilled me to the bone. I didn't even stop to pass by my apartment and change into a more sensible set of clothes, or fetch more possibly necessary money. I only had one thought: Get to New York.

I don't remember much from that travel I can't even recall buying a ticket, so to this day I'm still not sure if I even did. The train ride itself is very sketchy in my memory. I do remember an old, kind, and hunchbacked lady asking me if I was alright. I had probably been a sight: I was drenched from head to toe, my ruined make up had probably left dark traces down my face, my eyes were certainly puffy and red as they always were when I cried, my nose runny, my entire face scrunched up in a painful and worried grimace, and my body shaking with silent tears as I kept sniffling.

I had quickly assured her that I was fine, but she hadn't looked convinced, for god reason, as she shuffled into a seat herself.

I spent the entire train ride trapped in my own thoughts, my horrible brain going through, in exquisite detail, every single worst case scenario it could come up with. Completely engulfed in my own thoughts, I didn't even resurface to the real world until I suddenly found myself in front of the hospital in New York.

I'd lived in New York my entire childhood, with my parents, so I knew the city quite well, which had proved to be a good thing, since getting lost was the very last thing I had needed at that moment.

Steeling myself for what was to come, I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, trying in vain to relieve them of some of the tension I had build up during the night, and walked in. I met up with my mother, a thin mid-fifties woman with short graying hair. She'd been waiting for me in the lobby. Once she saw my appearance, she let out a sound of sympathy.

"Oh, Georgia," she said and embraced me, "Come here, darling."

She stroked my messy hair and kissed my forehead. I returned the hug, sniffling like I was about to cry again. I felt like I had spent all my tears, but it seemed that I still had a few left.

"How is he?" I asked after we pulled enough to still hold onto each other, but were able to look at each other too. My hand reached up to wipe away a few new tears.

"They're keeping him sedated for the moment. I haven't been able to talk to him." She answered. "They found the clot. They'll have to get it out surgically, but it's in a very tricky place, so they say it's a risky business. They told me to expect the worse, even d-" she cut off, like she couldn't say the word. I was grateful for that. I didn't want to hear it. We both knew what she meant anyway, but neither of us wanted to voice it. She sighed and dropped her hands down my arms from my shoulders so we held hands. "Well.. It's a possibility."

"Can I see him?" I choked out.

"We aren't allowed to enter his room right now, but I can take you to the area where he is being kept."

She led me through the hospital until we reached the hall he was in. we settled down in a small waiting room with a few couches and a small square table with an assortment of magazines. A small TV sat in one corner of the room, the news playing across the screen. In the opposite corner, a shelf and a few boxes with children's' toys sat. Two small boys played with action figures and, what I assumed was their mother stood next to them. A typical waiting room.

After staring at the wall for minutes, my mother stroking my hair, I focused on the small TV instead. The news speaker was talking about the massive prison break that had happened in November. She said that none of the prisoners had been spotted since that night, and that they probably all had gone in hiding. The police was worried, because they didn't know what this meant. They feared that the criminals had teamed up, which could mean serious trouble.

I turned away from the TV again. I didn't need more bad news.

The night slowly went by. I didn't' sleep at all. I was too worried. The only thing that kept me going the entire night was coffee – and lots of it. I'm not sure how much coffee was healthy for you to drink in one day, but I'm sure I had overstepped that boundary.

It was about ten thirty in the morning when a doctor approached my mother and me. My mother had managed a few hours of sleep on the sofa in the waiting room, but as I said, I hadn't been able to sleep myself. I had been sitting in a coma-like state for hours in my chair. A magazine had been in my hands, but after discovering that I'd been reading the same paragraph over and over again for half an hour, I threw it away.

He cleared his throat, a frown on his tired face, and asked for Mrs. And Miss Logan. My mother and I practically propelled out of our seats.

"The surgery, from what we can tell right now, when almost as planned. There were a few blood veins that were severed while we worked, so there is going to be some internal bleeding, which we should be able to stop. So far, we can't tell if he'll survive or not, but the odds are in his favor."

My mother and I both breathed sigh of relief. The doctor frowned deeper than before.

"I advise you to hope for the best, but also prepare for the worst. He is not out of danger yet." He smoothed his features into a look of sympathy. "I'll bring you news as soon as his condition changes." He then excused himself and left us.

I didn't know whether I should feel better or worse than before. He barely brought us any news at all. He had basically just told us 'Hey, he might die, but he also might not die too, we really have no idea!'

He hadn't been particularly helpful.

Two hours later, my mother let out a shaky sigh. "I'm going to get us some food, sweetie. I'll be right back." She said. She kissed my forehead and patted my cheek before leaving down the hall. I slumped deeper into my seat and tried to refocus on the TV. My eyes stung from an entire night without sleep, my head throbbing viciously.

I ventured to the bathroom after a few failed attempts of trying to focus on the crappy soap opera the TV's only channel was playing. I locked the bathroom door quickly and leaned against the door, the bathrooms fluorescent light displaying my pale reflection in the mirror.

I looked like absolute crap. I didn't care.

My head gave a particularly painful throb, protesting the sudden movements going to the bathroom had caused, and I quickly sat down on the floor, against the door. I hadn't even needed to go to the bathroom; I just needed to be alone.

After a few minutes, I stood up to study the dark bruises under my eyes, a result of my sleepless night. I used some water to remove some of the dark traces of makeup on my cheeks. Some mascara still clung to my eyelashes and there was still eyeliner lining my eyes. I left it there, too tired to bother.

Once I got back, my mom was waiting for me with a sandwich and a bottle of water. She'd eaten the same thing herself, but she was already done. I must've been gone longer than I had thought.

She didn't say anything when she saw me, just offered me a comforting look. I didn't say anything either, as I sat down and suffered through half a sandwich and a few gulps of water.

Hours passed without any news. The doctor had told us that it wasn't necessary for us to stay at the hospital: he'd contact us if there were any changes, but we both insisted on staying.

The sun had already started to set when I suddenly remembered that I had promised Clark that he could interview me today, and I had completely forgotten to tell him that I wasn't even in Metropolis. If I recalled correctly, I had said I'd call him, so he had probably been waiting for me to call him all day. A muttered curse left my mouth, which my mother heard.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" She asked. She looked slightly offended by the curse word I'd used, but didn't say anything about it.

"I've.. I've got a call to make mom." I quickly said, grabbing my purse with my phone in it. "I'll be right back, I promise."

I walked around the hospital for fifteen minutes, trying in vain to find a private spot where I could make my phone call. The hospital seemed to be in the middle of a rush hour, because there where people everywhere, which was why I found myself heading for the roof of the building. As I walked up the metal stairs that led to the roof, I fumbled with my bag and dropped it, spilling my things everywhere.

I almost started to cry with frustration. I'd been up all night, barely keeping myself going on caffeine, my mother and I hadn't gotten any clear news on my father condition yet, I was edgy and scared and tired, and dropping my purse almost made me break down completely. I tried to calm myself. The smallest thing set me off, but I couldn't afford to have an emotional breakdown halfway up the stairs to the roof in the middle of the hospital.

I gritted my teeth together and picked up my things, shoving them unceremoniously into the bag again, my phone now in hand.

Once there, I gratefully found it completely empty. Standing for a minute to just take some deep breaths of relatively clean and fresh air, to calm my nerves, I finally turned on my phone and found Clark in my contacts.

He picked up after the second ring.

_"This is Clark speaking." _

"Clark?" I said after a moment. I hadn't meant for my voice to sound so small and weak, but it did when I finally talked.

_"Georgia, hey! I've been waiting for you to call me all day. Where were you?" _I felt horrible for leaving him waiting like that, but I didn't detect any accusation in his voice.

"I- I'm really sorry I didn't call you sooner. Something.. Something came up." I tried to keep my voice from sounding like I was crying, but I couldn't help it.

_"Georgia, are you okay?"_ he immediately sounded worried, which only made me want to cry even more.

"I- I'm fine, I.." I heaved a deep sigh, "I'm in New York." I admitted. I promised myself that I could cry once the phone call was over. But not a moment before. I kept repeating the that same statement in my head.

_Once this phone call is over, I can cry._

_"Why?"_ his voice was soft, like he could tell I was about to cry again. Like I was a fragile object he didn't want to break.

"I'm at the hospital. My dad – he's.. not well." my voice sounded thick and I was fighting to keep the tears at bay. I decided to get to the main reason why I even called him. "I'm sorry Clark; I'll have to cancel that interview for now. I'm.. I'm not really feeling up to it today."

_"Hey don't worry about it. It's fine. I'll come over, okay? It sounds like you could need a friend." _

"Oh no, Clark, don't; it takes forever to take the train. I don't want you to feel like you have to go on such a long trip just to see me!" I quickly protested.

"Don't worry. It's not really that long of a trip." I heard him say, a slight eco in his voice, both over the phone, and right behind me. "Not for me, anyway."

I quickly turned around. In my grief-clouded state, I had completely forgotten that he could fly. It was oddly comforting to see him. He stood, tall and calm, a look of pure sympathy on his face. The setting sun made his blue eyes sparkle and his black hair reflected the golden hue perfectly. He was so flawlessly beautiful that I suddenly painfully remembered that I was wearing the same wrinkly clothes form yesterday evening, my hair was a rat's nest and I still had smudges of makeup on my face.

I couldn't bring myself to care at the moment, because as soon as he saw my face, he said, "Oh, Georgie.." and walked over and embraced me with such fierceness, like he could physically force me to get better immediately. I couldn't hold the tears back anymore, so I held onto him tightly and let go. My hands closed tightly around his shirt, wrinkling it, and my face buried in his warm and welcoming chest. I pressed my ear to his chest, the steady sound of his alien heart beating, completely normally like a humans, comforting me.

* * *

Just so you know, this doesn't mean that I'm back to posting chapters every week, it just means that I'm not a dick that plans to leave you for a long period of time.

I also got a shit-load of writing done because I was without internet for a week. Anyway, I'll probably upload a few times during the next few months, especially because my summerbreak already started two weeks ago. I plan to get a lot of writing done during the summer, mainly because I'm going to be without internet for three weeks, leaving me with no distractions.

Writing is also a good way to distract myself from the fact that the next heroes of Olympus book won't be out until October. *Que dramatic descending into depressed insanity*

So, to sum up, I will probably update some times during the summer, but it'll be random updates, so don't expect a new chapter every week.

hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to leave a review! (seriously, I'm mainly updating now because I got a lot of awesome reviews so I simply couldn't help it)


	13. A Hospital in New York part 2

**Chapter 13**

**A Hospital in New York part 2**

Some time later, I calmed down. I tried to be embarrassed by the fact that I'd been grossly sobbing and sniffling right in front of him, but I couldn't. He had seen me cry before, and by now I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't judge me for crying over my father. I pulled away and let out a small weak laugh when I saw the black smudges of makeup I'd left on his white shirt. He looked down at his now wrinkly and wet and dirty shirt, a small smirk playing across his face as his blue eyes met mine. He reached out his hands and cupped my face, wiping away the last tears.

"So," he said. "Tell me what's going on?" his sweet tone and calm voice helped me relax enough to, with a thick and croaky voice, tell him about my dad with only a minimum of sobbing.

Once I finished he pulled me in again for a brief hug and placed a kiss on my forehead. Despite my miserable state, my heart still sped up at the gesture. I was in grief, yes, but I still had a crush on Clark, and the way he was acting now only made that crush deepen. I wasn't even sure if it was just a simple crush anymore. I felt like my feelings for him had developed past a childish crush into something much stronger and serious.

He pulled back and held me at arm's length, his big hands resting on my shoulders. "Do you want me to stay? I don't want to intrude on a family matter, of course, so it's entirely up to you, but you still really look like you could need some friendly support."

I gave him a watery smile. "You really don't have to Clark. I can't imagine anyone wanting to put up with such as mess as I am right now. Besides, I don't want to keep you from whatever plans you've got."

He smiled sweetly. "I haven't got any plans today, remember? My plans involved you, and you had to cancel." My heart did a small throb when he said how his plans had involved me. It was silly of course, because I knew his plans involved me, it just sounded nice to hear him say it. Like I was involved in his life.

He hadn't contradicted me in deeming myself a mess, which I was grateful for. It would've felt empty if he did. We both knew I was a huge mess right now.

"Georgie.." He stepped closer and looked me straight in the eyes as his hands traveled from my shoulders to my hands, holding onto them tightly, leaving a tingly feeling all the way down my arms, "Would you like for me to stay?" his blue eyes looked at me so piercingly that I felt nailed to the spot. There was no room for arguments or lying in that gaze. I knew that.

"Yes." I weakly admitted in a whisper, unconsciously adding a sniff, because of my runny nose..

He nodded and smiled softly at me before gently tugging me behind him towards the doors that led to the stairs. I couldn't help but feel awed at the gentleness of his touch and actions, when I knew how strong and powerful he really was. To have such control over oneself must've been quite a feat. I certainly don't think I could've done it.

Once we entered the hospital again, it was my turn to take the lead. He didn't let go of my hand, though, as I led him through the halls and into the waiting room my mother and I had been camped in since yesterday night.

"Georgia, thank goodness!" my mom said once I reentered the room. "I almost sent out a search party!"

I cast a glance at the watch on the wall and saw that I'd been up on that roof with Clark for almost an hour.

"Sorry mom." I tried for a smile. I probably didn't pull it off. She spotted Clark then, who was standing behind me. Not that he wouldn't be easy to spot. He was ridiculously tall after all, and I most certainly was not. Her eyes travelled from his face to our linked hands. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

"And who might this be?" She questioned. One of her eyebrows rose slightly in an undeniably suggestive manner.

I felt my face heat up a bit. "Mom, this is Clark Kent. He's a good friend of mine." I put pressure on the word _friend_. "Once he heard, he came to comfort me."

Clark stepped up so he was next to me instead of behind me.

"Hello Mrs. Logan." He said politely, offering his hand, which she shook. "It's nice to finally meet Georgia's mother." He gave her a dashing smile. She smiled in return and met my eyes, her gaze clearly saying, _Just a friend? Well, do something about that!_

He must've known how handsome and loveable he was. I refuse to believe that he didn't know how completely gorgeous he was and the effect he could have on women.

"I am so sorry to hear about your husband." Clark added to his introduction. My mother smiled sadly at him and patted his hand, which was still in hers. "Thank you, Mister Kent. I'm so glad Georgia has such nice friends. Metropolis is such a long ways away from New York; it must've been a tiring trip!"

"Not at all, Mrs. Logan." He assured her, sending me a sideways glance.

My mother excused herself soon after. She said she wanted to go home and prepare some proper food for us instead of the 'sorry excuse the hospital had to offer'. I didn't complain. Another suggestive look from her and I would've burst. My mom loved to cook, and I knew it would bring her a bit of comfort to shuffle around her kitchen again. Something to take her mind off of the situation, if only for a bit. She promised she'd be back again as soon as possible.

I slumped further into the couch Clark and I was seated in, once she left. Clark cast me a worried look.

"When was the last time you slept?" It was probably the closest he'd ever come to admitting that I looked like absolute crap.

I let out a slightly crazed laugh. "Night between Thursday and Friday, if I remember correctly." I admitted. His frown deepened.

"You should try to get some sleep." He said.

"Not bloody likely." I argued. "I've got too much caffeine in my system to sleep for the next week!" but even as I said it, I felt my head get heavy and my eyes start to close. A few minutes later, I was so tired that I slumped against Clark and closed my stinging eyes fully, allowing myself the short rest. I started wondering if he had some sort of sleep inducing power. I had asked him that several months later, to which he had laughed loudly and denied.

I felt his arm snake around my shoulders, his hand playing a bit with my hair, before I fell asleep. The closeness of our bodies and the feeling of him playing with my hair should've probably made my body release so much adrenalin that I could've run a marathon, but I was already too drowsy to fully register my surroundings.

When I woke up again, I felt much better and well rested. I wasn't sure what time it was. I almost went back to sleep, because the couch I was lying on was so comfortable.

Then I noticed that I was lying down on my side, facing the waiting room, as opposed to when I'd fallen asleep, where I'd been sitting up. My head was propped up comfortably on a pillow.

No. Not a pillow.

Clark's lap.

I could feel his slow breathing behind and beneath me as I lay there, frozen in panic and surprise. I could hear and feel from his breathing that he was asleep himself.

I hoped to god I hadn't been snoring or drooling.

Looking at the watch on the wall, I saw that it was quite late at night – already twelve thirty. It was over twenty four hours ago my mom had called me to bring me the news now. I was completely awake now. I tried to move, but I found I couldn't. One of Clark's hands was completely tangled up in my hair. His other, I noticed, were entwined with mine, next to my head. I turned my head a bit and sneaked a peek at him. He was still sitting where he'd been sitting before, only a bit more slumped and his head resting to one side, leaning against the back of the couch. His mouth was closed, unlike how mine would've been if I'd been sitting up and sleeping, his entire face completely relaxed and unguarded, his dark lashes brushing against his cheeks behind his glasses, hiding his intelligent blue eyes. There was an ever-present sort of dignified grace over him, even now as he sat, curled up and asleep, on a crappy hospital couch.

I couldn't let go of his hand or untangle the other one without waking him. And he looked too peaceful and beautiful when he slept to wake up.

I turned me head back so it was facing the room again. My mother was sitting on one of the other couches, also asleep. On the table in front of her was a bowl, with, what I deduced from my poor visual position, looked like potato salad, probably with bacon.

I hoped she hadn't seen Clark and I like this. I didn't need her to play match maker in any form.

After another twenty minutes, my neck started to hurt, and even though it pained me to do so, I let go of his hand and sat up slowly. He started waking up when his other hand traveled with my head, still tangled in my hair. It hurt a bit, a few strands of hair getting tugged at more than was necessary. He took in a deep breath and his other hand came up in slow, tired movements, taking off his glasses and rubbing his still closed eyes, ridding them of sleep. He stretched his back (which I found deliciously sexy) as his fingers finally slipped from my hair, traveling down my back, and ended up resting against my hip.

He finally opened his eyes, his blue ones meeting my grey ones immediately. He offered me a dry smirk.

"Told you you needed to sleep." He said. I brushed hair out of my eyes with an awkward movement.

"I'm so sorry I fell asleep _on_ you." I said. He looked at me funnily for a moment and then started slowly laughing. I joined him a bit later, reluctantly. For a moment, I forgot all about my worries and fears, I forgot about my father, I forgot about the terrible state my hair was in, and that I looked like a corpse in front of the man I had feelings for. I felt my spirits lighten as we sat and lowly chuckled in that waiting room at the hospital.

We grew silent a moment later and my former fears returned. He gave me a sideways glance, his eyes sparkling. It was clear that he was doing his best to cheer me up, and I appreciated the gesture. I settled down against the armrest opposite of Clark, bringing my legs up so my arms could rest on top of them. He turned so he was leaning against the other armrest, so we could see each other better.

"Thank you, Clark." I finally said. "For staying. I really appreciate it."

He nodded seriously, before sending me a sly smile and said, "But not as much as Diana 'appreciates my ass'."

I groaned, careful to not wake my mom, and dropped my head onto my arms. "You heard that?" He nodded, despite the question being quite unnecessary. "I swear, that girl.. She can be so embarrassing, but I promise, she's a good friend." I defended.

"Don't worry 'bout it. I can't exactly be offended by what, technically, is a compliment." He was still not wearing his glasses, I noticed. It changed his face a lot. I couldn't decide whether I liked him better with or without them.

"She does seem like quite the character."

"Oh, she is." I assured him. "God, this is so embarrassing!"

He chuckled again. "Don't fret too much over it. It wouldn't be the first time I've gotten that kind of reaction from a woman. Though," he faked a thoughtful look. "It's usually the other me that gets those kind of comments.."

Over on the other couch, my mom snorted once and turned over slightly, but she stayed asleep.

I ran a hand through my hair, frowning when it got stuck in several knots. Pulling the particular areas down in front of my eyes where I could better see them, I discovered, to my surprise, that it wasn't knots at all, but small braids.

".. did you braid my hair when I was asleep?" I looked at Clark. He almost looked a bit sheepish, but he nodded.

"I wasn't tired, to begin with.. and I got a bit bored. The TV only has one channel and I couldn't reach any of the magazines without waking you." He defended.

I found it ironic how he felt the need to defend himself. He almost sounded like I had a few months ago, where I was afraid that everything I did was uncool in his eyes and I had that unnatural want to impress him.

"I didn't know you could braid." I studied the small braids. They were quite expertly done. Much better than what I could've done myself. I sent him what was supposed to be a smile, but it came off sadder than I had wanted it to. No matter how hard he tried, I couldn't quite stop worrying about my father.

"Hey, I grew up on a farm. I'm very crafty when I want to be."

"You grew up on a farm?" My eyebrows knitted at this piece of information. "I never knew."

"My adoptive parents, the Kent's, they had their own farm. I lived there till I was eighteen."

He looked like he was going to continue, but at that moment a new doctor came into the room and Clark stopped talking. He quickly shoved his glasses back on. I stood up swiftly and met the doctor halfway, hoping for some good news. I was so grateful for having Clark here to distract me and cheer me up, but now I became painfully aware that no amount of distraction could change the condition my father was in. The real world was still in motion outside the little bubble we were in.

I studied the doctor's face, and a small sense of relief washed over me. He didn't look like the bearer of bad news.

"Miss Logan, I presume?" The doctor said. I nodded eagerly.

"Well?"

"Perhaps we should wake your mother?" Clark suggested. "She'll probably want to hear what the doctor has to say too."

Always the voice of reason..

I nodded and walked up to my sleeping mother, gently shaking her awake. "Mom, the doctor is here with news of dad." She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, nodding to signal that she'd heard. Sitting up, she looked expectantly at the doctor.

"Unless something unexpected comes up, your husband is fully expected to survive, Mrs. Logan." He said. "We want to keep him here in the foreseeable future, but we expect a full recovery." He shuffled about with his papers and took on a more serious expression. "Your husband's condition was brought on by a mix of too unhealthy food and too little exercise. We've contacted a personal trainer and food expert that we'd like for your husband to go to and get help with changing his lifestyle for the better. We'll be calling him in for regular check-ups over the next months to make sure there has been an improvement in his condition."

I felt like I was floating already. Like the hand that had been gripping and squeezing my heart had finally let go. I could breather deeper now, with relief.

"Of course." Mom said, her voice weary. I could tell she was tired, but relieved that the whole thing was finally over, and that dad was okay. "Can I see him?"

The doctor nodded. "He's still asleep, but I can allow a short visit. After that," he looked both of us over, "as a doctor, I'd advice you both to get home and get some rest."

My mother turned to me. "You should follow his advice and go home sweetie. I'll call you as soon as there are any changes. You can come visit again next weekend. We need to be together as a family after this whole ordeal." She turned to Clark, "And you are always welcome too, of course, Mister Kent. Any _friend_ of Georgia's is."

I really disliked the way she said the word _friend_ but I'd let it go this time.

"Sure mom." I said. "I'll just have a quick look at dad, and then I'll see you next weekend. I don't think the doctor will allow more than one visitor at a time anyway."

The doctor nodded and agreed with me, then led my mother out and towards where my dad was. I quickly followed. "You can wait here, if you like." I told Clark over my shoulder. He nodded. "I'll be waiting right here." He assured me. I smiled at him briefly, and he returned it, before I turned my head around again and followed the doctor down the corridor.

I only got a brief glimpse of my dad. I didn't really want to see any more. He was attached to all sorts of machines and things, looking horribly pale and unconscious. A minute after I arrived, I asked the doctor to show me back to the waiting room. Seeing my dad like that had made me really uncomfortable.

The uncomfortable feeling couldn't overshadow the relief though.

I couldn't help it. I was so relieved and happy that I started crying once the doctor had left and I was back in the waiting room. Clark looked confused at this behavior. He hesitantly placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I started laughing. "He's going to be okay!" I managed to get out in between crying and laughing. "Gosh, he's gonna be fine.. Thank god!"

Clark seemed to realize that I was in fact crying with happiness and he instantly relaxed, a smile forming on his face as well.

Together, we gathered my things, and then Clark led me through the hospital towards, what I would later realize, the roof.

"Erh, Clark, the main doors are that way." I said, pointing in the other direction with my index finger.

"We aren't heading for the main doors." He revealed. I then recognized the metal stairs I'd been walking up last night, when I had gone to call him. If I had known then that Clark was going to show up and comfort me, and that I'd be using him as a pillow, and he'd be braiding my hair, and telling me about his childhood, and falling asleep next to me, I'm not sure I'd have had the guts to actually call him.

I was glad I did.

We reached the roof and he quickly snaked his arms around my waist.

"I hope you don't mind getting home the fast way." He said.

"Are you kidding?" I smiled a bit. "This beats taking the train any day."

A laugh rumbled through his chest, which I could feel perfectly, since I was being held against that chest. I watched as we levitated from the roof, turning my body slightly so I could hold onto him too. It wasn't like I didn't trust Clark to not drop me, but I still needed the extra security of holding onto him myself.

Flying home with Superman was certainly a lot faster than taking the train.

In what felt like no time at all, we landed on my very small balcony. Way too small for two people, anyway and even more so because my 'Scope took up half the balcony space. It was especially too small when one of those two was as broad shouldered and tall as Clark. He put us both down and removed his arms from around me. I made to step away from him, but I found myself pushed against the railing already, so I couldn't.

We were standing pretty close, and I don't think it was my imagination when he bowed his head down even further, bringing us even closer.

"I suppose it's considered good manners to ask for permission to enter your apartment?" he said in a low, private voice. I was out of breath from our close proximity and the tone of voice he spoke with, my mouth parted slightly with my breathlessness, so I just nodded.

"Well then, Miss Logan." I swear I'm not lying when I say he shuffled even closer to me. "Can I come in, please?"

Still out of breath, and probably quite wide eyed and panicked-looking, I just nodded again. A small smirk played across his lips and he then, without looking away from me, reached his right hand out and turned the doorknob on the glass door that led into my living room. The door slowly opened and his smirk widened into a smile before he stood up straight and walking into my home.

I stayed out there for a few seconds extra, trying to catch my breath and figure out what the heck that was.

* * *

So, since chapter 12 and 13 are kind of linked together, and I got so many awesome reviews, and I got so many new readers, and because I just went and watch the new Man of Steel, I had so many good reasons to upload that I simply couldn't help myself.

Keep in mind that it still doesn't mean that I'm back to posting every weekend. Soon I'm going to be gone for three weeks in a row, with no internet, so there's going to be a bit of a lack of chapters during that time, but I count on getting a lot of writing done in those three weeks, so I'll be back with a vengeance afterwards.

I hope you enjoyed! And don't forget to review!


	14. Superman Bakes Pancakes In My Kitchen

**Chapter 14**

**Superman Bakes Pancakes In My Kitchen**

"Honestly, by now it's a bit pointless for you to ask for permission to come in. It's not like Jimmy or Diana does, either." I admitted once I'd entered the room and settled down in my old armchair.

"Duly noted." He said. He stood in the middle of my living room – which made it look ridiculously small – his hands on his hips, looking around. "You know, I've been here several times now, but I never really got to look around."

"Well feel free." I motioned for him to do whatever he wanted with a flick of my hand and settled deeper into my chair, moving so my back was against one armrest and my legs propped over the other one. A rather comfortable position.

"I will.." He murmured, studying a picture on my wall for a moment before looking back at me. "But first, how about I treat you to dinner?"

I raised my eyebrows doubtfully. "Clark it's in the middle of the night. I know Metropolis is a big and busy city, but I doubt you'll find any open shops right now. Even if you managed to find a place that was still open, I don't think it'd be a place which food would be safe to eat without getting some sort of food poisoning."

"I didn't say I'd _buy _you dinner. I offered to _make _you some dinner."

I fell silent. "Oh."

_Make_ dinner? Him? For me?

Ten minutes later, I sat in my chair, trying to process that Superman was currently baking pancakes in my kitchen.

Just.. take a minute to process that.

Superman was baking pancakes in my kitchen.

_Superman was baking pancakes in my kitchen._

"Oh my goodness." I whispered to myself. "Superman is baking pancakes in my kitchen."

"Technically," Clark suddenly piped up from the kitchen, poking his head through the doorway, "Clark Kent is baking pancakes in your kitchen."

He stuck his head back into the kitchen, a moment later saying, "I'm off duty right now."

"Could you at least have the courtesy to _pretend _like you can't hear all the shit I whisper to myself that no one else is supposed to hear?" I complained loudly at the kitchen. Getting out of the chair, I walked up and leaned against the doorway, looking at the pancake-making that was going on.

"See, that would be rude, because then you'd continue doing it and one day you'll end up saying something that you _really_ don't want me to hear. This will save you from the embarrassment." He spoke in that light tone, like it was the most logical shit ever. I couldn't help but pout childishly at him.

I'd let him win this time.

Ten minutes later, he was almost done, and my kitchen smelled great.

Superman was good at baking pancakes, who knew?

Suddenly, he froze his movements, an intense look on his face. A second later, I heard a terrified woman's scream pierce the night.

He immediately turned to me. I could recognize Superman immediately. It was like pulling a switch. His entire posture changed, his facial expressions – everything.

"I'd better go." He headed for my balcony door. In two seconds flat – and in a flurry of movements – all his clothes were off (which should have embarrassed or excited me), revealing the suit he was wearing underneath. I took a sharp intake of breath. He really was a magnificent sight as Superman. So much raw power contained in one body. It was awe inspiring.

It was enough to distract me from the fact that Clark had just stripped down in front of me – though it hardly counted when he was wearing something underneath.

"I'll be back." He looked back at me, stern and serious. Then his face softened. "I promise." For a brief moment, he was all Clark. Then Superman returned. He flew off into the night. I ran for my balcony, looking at the red-and-blue flash across the night sky.

"Well, not totally off duty." I said softly to myself, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm in the cold December air.

I stood for some time, until I remembered the pancakes. Which were still cooking on the stove.

"Shit!" I ran for the kitchen. The pancake that Clark had started was smoking and when I turned it, it was black and inedible.

As I finished the rest of the pancakes, I pondered over the difference between Clark and Superman. I kept referring to them as different people, but they really weren't. It wasn't like Clark had a case of split personality, or schizophrenia. That's not what I was suggesting at all. Clark and Superman were more like.. different mindsets.

Kind of like how 'Georgia When She Hangs Out With Diana' is different from 'Georgia When She Is At Work'.

A different mindset for a different situation.

It must be so tiring to lead a double life..

Once I finished the pancakes, I went into the living room and picked up his clothes, which were scattered all over the floor. It was such a strange thing to do. Almost as strange as freaking _Superman_ making pancakes in my kitchen.

He did in fact come back. I had just finished setting the table in my kitchen for two, appreciating the fact that I'd decided to clean the house early for once, so it was nice and tidy before the whole mess with the hospital had happened. Having to live through the mortification of Clark seeing my apartment at its worst was the last thing I wanted.

Anyway, I'd finished setting the table, wondering what he'd want with his pancakes and worrying if I'd have what he wanted, when he came back in through my balcony door, which I'd left open for when he came back.

A stupid decision, because now my apartment was very cold.

"Hey, you came back." I smiled at him. He picked up his clothes and stepped inside my bathroom. "Of course I came back." He said from the bathroom. He came back out again ten seconds later, fully dressed. Damn, he had to teach me _that_ party trick some time. "I said I would, didn't I?"

"That you did."

We settled down at my small table, eating the pancakes. I was pleasantly surprised. They were good. Really good. I guess I could add 'Good Cook' to the ever growing list of 'Reasons Why Clark Kent Is Way Out Of My League And I Should Just Forget All About Having A Relationship With Him'

Coincidently, that list was identical to my other list named 'Reasons Why I Am Falling Harder And Harder For Clark Kent'.

After the last pancake, I gathered the dishes quickly, mind set on cleaning up myself. I was out of luck.

"The cook cleans up after himself." Clark insisted. I shook my head.

"Maybe where you grew up, farm boy, but this is my apartment and my rules, and I say that the cook gets to relax while I do the dishes!" I had barely opened up the tap when his arms snaked around my waist and pulled me away from the sink.

"Miss Logan, I said I'd treat you to dinner, which means the dishes included." he was so close that I could feel his breath against my neck as he talked into my ear and hair, which sent electricity up and down my back.

I think he did that because he knew I'd let him do the dishes then.

Finally, I relented, opting to sit on the counter next to him instead, watching him work.

"Thank you so much, Clark." I said after a long silence. "For everything. This whole ordeal would've been a lot harder for me to get through if you hadn't been there."

He turned his head and smiled brilliantly at me, a look that said everything. A look that said that he'd been happy to help and that I could always count on him for emotional support.

"Well, I know how you can repay me." My mind immediately misunderstood that and started conjuring up all the different scenarios in which I could 'repay him'.

"By giving me some really good and deep answers for that interview." His words burst the bubble of sexual frustration I was speedily building around myself. "I hope I can still count on you to help me?"

"Hm?" I said, not quite yet out of Sexy-land. "Oh, yeah, of course." I smiled innocently at him.

"Good." He dried off the last plate and placed it on the table. He took off my apron – which had looked slightly small and very ridiculous on him, just like the rest of my apartment did when he was in it– took a step back from the sink and looked at me, smiling. I returned the smile genuinely.

"It's late." He said, casting a glance at the clock on my wall. The green and flowery one Diana had given me as an 'I love to give you shitty presents' present. It read just past three AM. "I should probably go home now. You've had a long weekend."

I nodded and hopped down from the counter. "I'll see you Monday."

He seemed to have a short internal battle with himself for a moment, before resolutely walking over and squeezing me in a hug and placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Get some rest, okay?" he looked seriously at me.

"Yeah, yeah." I said. "I promise."

He left, leaving me with nothing to do but to do what he had told me to do – go to bed. It took me some time to fall asleep, despite the late hour and the small amount of sleep I'd gotten this weekend, but in the end, I managed.

I was allowed eight hours of blessed sleep, before a certain someone, Diana, broke into my bedroom.

"You've got some 'splaining to do, missy!" she exclaimed once she saw me. "You totally blew me off Friday!"

I groggily lifted my head halfway from my pillows, before deciding, praying, that this had to be some sort of evil nightmare, and buried myself again.

"Go away." I mumbled.

"Nu-hu!" Apparently the devil had decided to possess her to perform his evil deeds, because she then pulled my covers off. And, honestly, only the devil himself is evil enough to do something like that, we all know this.

"Diana, give me back my comforter and I promise to end you life less painfully." I turned around and said with a sweet smile on my face.

"George, seriously, what the hell?" I couldn't stay mad at her, not even for pulling my covers off, because this was Diana's roundabout way of showing that she cared.

"Look, I'm really sorry I blew you off, okay, but my mom called," I sat up pulled my hair away from my face. A small smile found its way to my lips once I saw the small braids that were still in it. "My dad was in hospital. It was serious." I elaborated.

"Oh." She dropped down onto my bed, still hugging my lovely warm comforter to her. She stared out my window for a few seconds before turning to me. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He's going to be fine. Everything went well."

Diana was very rarely serious and quiet, which made her concern all the more flattering.

She nodded. "Good. The old geezer owes me money from the last bet he lost."

Unfortunately, her serious and quiet moments never lasted for long.

In all seriousness, though, Diana cared greatly for my parents. When we were in high school, her own parents were going through a hard time, with a lot of arguing, and even talk of divorce from time to time. When the battles raged on, Diana would come to our house and stay for as long as she needed. We never really talked about it – Diana was the kind of person that wouldn't appreciate a good heart to heart if she was the subject – but just allowing her to stay for a night or two was enough. My mother fussed over us and made awesome food to cheer her up, and my dad sat with us and played stupid board games and told stories from his childhood. Stuff that a family did. I suppose that's what helped her so much. We behaved like a normal middle class family, as opposed to her stressed, rich, workaholic parents.

Once high school was over and Diana and I moved to Metropolis, her parents seemed to finally calm down and they actually saved their marriage, through years of hard work and some counseling. Last I'd heard, they were doing good – and going on a trip to Hawaii, so I guess thinks were cool.

Diana used to jokingly say that she'd probably been the problem, since they stopped fighting after she moved out. I could tell that, while it was meant as a joke, she believed that it was true. Or at least partly believed it.

It wasn't exactly a healthy idea to walk around with, but I hadn't tried to approach the subject. As I said, she'd probably just redirect the conversation or something. She really does suck at feelings. Despite the fact that she seemed to have everything; the money, the looks, the men, I was never jealous of her.

True, some more money would've been nice, but at what cost? Her high school years had been terrible because of her parent's situation, and now she rarely ever visited her parents because she thought it was her fault they had been fighting all the time. Given the choice between money or family, I'd much rather have my family, thank you very much.

And yes, she did look amazing and she always managed to pick up gorgeous men, but it was hardly ever more that a one-night stand. In some way, I kind of pitied her, sometimes. I'd been the pitiful one in high school, but now the tables had actually kind of turned

"So, how did the night go without me?" I'll admit I did feel a bit bad about leaving her all alone on a Friday night, but what was I expected to do – tell my mom that I couldn't come see my sick dad because I was too busy getting drunk at some bar?

She shrugged. "It was good." She threw the comforter back into my face, and I was glad I hadn't put my glasses on yet. "I got this really cute guy's number."

"Are you planning to keep this one?" I pulled the comforter off my head and searched for my glasses.

She shrugged again. "I don't know. I can't really see myself dating someone named 'Fabian'. It's such a weird name.." she said contemplatively.

I suppressed a laugh and turned to my desk, hoping to find my glasses there.

"Diana, can you see my glasses anywhere?" She sighed overdramatically and looked around.

"George, they're like, right in front of you."

"Oh." I picked them up from their resting place atop a book and slipped them on. "Vision. Nice."

"Anywhoo, since you blew me off Friday, I was thinking we should do something today, but now I see you look like total crap and you obviously need your rest and shit."

I quirked a smile at Diana's roundabout way of telling me to take care of myself.

"I'll find someone – I mean some_thing_ else to do."

Now I realized that she'd only come to shortly make sure that I was alive, and then move on with her plans, which probably included Fabian.

"Sure. Have fun with Fabian." I said slyly as she walked past me and into my living room.

"Oh, I _will_." She wasn't even trying to deny it. Good grief, she must've liked this guy. "Bye."

I had promised Clark that I'd relax and take care of myself, so that's what I did. I spent the entirety of the Sunday, after Diana's rude wakening in my apartment, alternating between laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to my 'Best of The Beatles' album, and painting. Or trying to paint anyway. Mostly I just mixed the color and stared at the canvas, waiting for inspiration to drop by. It was quite expensive in paint, because I'd think I got a good idea and I'd mix the colors and then I'd always end up staring blankly at the white background, wondering what the hell the idea had been anyway, before going back to lay on my bed and listen to The Beatles some more, leaving the paint to dry in small blobs.

It was a good way for me to process the past few days. I finally got the time to think about my dad and his condition properly, in addition to analyzing my feelings for Clark more closely.

Once seven pm came by, I realized that eating was essential for my survival, so I finally, with a great deal of persuasion from my grumbling stomach, got up from my bed and dragged myself into the kitchen, where I just fixed myself a quick meal consisting of toast, before heading back to my bed and eating it from my lying position, ignoring that I got crumbs all over my blankets.

I went to bed really early after that. I needed to catch up on my lost sleep from over the weekend.

Due to my going to sleep so early the night before, I woke up early for the first time in my career as office girl at the Daily Planet. Quite a feat, if you ask me. I had loads of time to get ready, and since my stomach wasn't particularly impressed with the meager dinner from the night before, I spent half the morning preparing an awesome breakfast. The other half I mainly spent in my bathtub. Warm bubble baths truly were my biggest weakness.

Once I reached the office, Jimmy was waiting for me at my desk.

"S'up?" I said as greeting.

"Hey, Georgia." He replied. "Clark told me you've had a rough weekend.. Everything okay?" I could see the concern in his eyes. I wondered why Clark had even told him. We both knew Jimmy, and so we both knew fussing and worrying was one of his big hobbies.

"Yeah, I'm okay now. My dad was in hospital, but he's fine now, so everything's good. I'm going to visit them again this weekend, though. Just to, you know, check up on him." I answered, trying to tone down the news as much as possible to keep him from worrying too much. Jimmy had never met my parents, but since I was one of his only friends, Clark being the other, he was going to worry anyway.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, Georgia." Jimmy's eyes widened comically with concern. "What happened to him?"

And let the fussing and worrying commence..

"A blood clot near the heart. I don't know the specifics. I'm rubbish at medical stuff. Anyway, they had to do surgery, but it went well and his condition is stable."

He nodded with sympathy on his face. "Well, as long as he survives, right?"

I smiled. It was nice to have people around you that cared. "Yeah."

"So, I think I'll invite you go hang out later. To take your mind off of your horrible weekend. We could go to that cheap hotdog stand that you love." he suggested. I smiled again. I did love that hotdog stand, not only because the hotdogs were great, but because it had a beautiful view over the park.

"Sure," I agreed.

* * *

Repeat after me: 'Josephine did not end this chapter in an abrupt and stupid way'

This'll be the last chapter I'll be able to upload for three or four weeks, because I'm going away and won't have any internet for a long time.

Anyway, I hope you liked it well enough. It's not one of my personal favourite chapters..


	15. Clark is just Super

**Chapter 15**

**Clark is just Super**

"I can invite Clark too, if you like?" He raised a suggestive eyebrow at me and I remembered that Jimmy didn't actually know just how much Clark and I had been hanging out the past month or so. He still thought I was sighing and drooling at him from a distance.

I wish I was as talented at raising eyebrows as Jimmy. I couldn't even raise one individually. I had to do both at the same time.

I shook myself out of my eyebrow mussing and returned to the conversation. "Nah." I declined, earning a very surprised look from Jimmy. "You and I haven't hung out in ages. Not alone at least. Besides, you haven't told me anything about your trip to your sister's. We've got some catching up to do!"

Jimmy smiled appreciatively, and I realized this was probably the first time a girl had declined hanging out with her crush, to hang out with him instead. Jimmy and I were very good for each other's confidence, I think. I could always count on him praising my paintings or hanging out with me or fussing over all the things I needed him to fuss over (and a few things I certainly didn't need him to fuss over), and I was a nice boost to his confidence, just by being a moderately attractive woman who willingly hung out with him.

We were both sad like that.

Jimmy smiled brightly at me and pushed himself off the desk, which he had been leaning against.

"On one condition." I said, holding up a finger to stop him. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me funnily.

"You help me carry all the coffee. Com'on." I grabbed him by his tie, which was rather sloppily done, and dragged him with me into the kitchen area. His features smoothed out and he laughed, probably with relief. It wouldn't be the first time I made some silly demand that made him look ridiculous.

We walked out of the kitchen some time later, Jimmy carrying a tray filled with coffee pots to the brim, while I was simply being a lazy ass and carrying the cups.

I accidentally bumped into our lovely cleaning lady, who proceeded to curse at me colorfully. I guess she wasn't pleased with coming in early. Mister White had probably hosted a meeting this morning and asked her to come in and clean up after them. I was just relieved he'd asked her this time instead of me.

The day passed by without a lot of drama. I ate lunch with Jimmy, had a small chat with Clark, which mainly consisted of him asking how I was doing and me reassuring I was totally fine, and then just sitting around and waiting for someone to order me about. Between collecting coffee, of course.

Which was why I was totally unprepared for Lois Lane, of all people, to approach me all of a sudden.

I hadn't even noticed her at the office the entire day. Quite a feat, because she liked to make herself seen and heard wherever she was. Like most reporters, now that I think about it.

She'd been away for a long time, first on family vacation with Richard, her long-time fiancé, and their cute son, Jason.

Adorable little thing that boy was. A shame he was so frail.

Anyway, after that family vacation, Perry sent her on a long-time job-related trip to some country I can't remember, where she wrote a series of moderately successful articles about the country.

I had a feeling Perry just wanted an excuse to not having to deal with her for a couple of weeks. True, she was an amazing reporter and damn smart too, in some areas, but she also had the tendency to complain a lot.

"Hi." She said, all business-like.

"Erh." Was my intelligent response. "Hi."

"I'm really sorry to have to ask it of you, but I could really use some help with this article. There a huge pile of old records that needs to be sorted through and I don't have the time. You wouldn't mind helping out, would you?"

Aw, shit. Sorting through records was probably the most boring thing she could've asked me to do. And I'm not sure I'd be able to spend an extended period of time with her without blurting '_You had him! You had motherfucking Clark Kent/Superman in your clutches and you let him go for a pilot! With _curls_! _'

Knowing that I couldn't exactly tell the start reporter of the newspaper 'heck no', I forced a smile onto my face and said; "Of course I'll stay and help. When do you want me?"

In retrospect, I probably could have phrased that better. She didn't seem to notice, luckily.

"I'm busy tonight, so I was thinking tomorrow, after work. I'll of course pay for dinner." She flashed me a small smile, for the first time in the conversation, and thanked me before heading for Perry White's office, possibly to complain a bit.

Jimmy came over some time after. "So, what'd the queen want?"

"Oh, she just asked me to stay and help with some work." I replied nonchalantly.

Jimmy looked sympathetic. "She asked you to sort through old records, didn't she?"

"Yup."

"You have my sympathy." He said. He frowned a bit. "This isn't going to clash with our plans, is it?"

"Nope, don't worry; it's not 'til tomorrow. We're still on." I reassured him, casting a glance at the watch. "Whoops. Time to go on another coffee run. I'll see you after work."

The rest of the day slowly ticked by until, finally, Jimmy approached my desk again, bag hanging over his should and his winter jacket draped over his arm. "Ready?"

"Heck yes." Today had been particularly shitty and boring, so I was in serious need of getting away from the Daily Planet right now. "Let's go."

I grabbed my own purse and shrugged on my coat, marching towards the elevator.

Once Jimmy and I stepped into the elevator, I cast a glance inside the office again, my eyes immediately finding Clark. He was looking at me too, and we simultaneously grinned as I held a hand up and waved at him to say goodbye. He returned it quickly before re-focusing on his article.

Before the doors closed completely, I spotted Lois Lane looking, first at Clark, then at me, a calculating look on her face. I could practically hear the gears working in her head.

_Aw, crap._

Since we had both arrived on a bike, it only took us ten minutes to reach the hotdog stand with the great view.

Jimmy ordered two hotdogs, insisting that he pay, since I'd brought the food last time. I didn't think two hotdogs quite made up for the three course meal I'd made to practice my cooking skills, most of which Jimmy had consumed.

It was no wonder I was always short on cash, when my friends were so expensive in fuel.

We settled down against an iron fence that separated the park from the street. It was at the top of a hill, so the view was, as I'd said before, great. I had been sitting down almost all day, so it was nice so stand.

"So." I said, taking a break from my hotdog. "How was your sister's?"

He shrugged. "It was nice. Busy, with four kids and all, but nice."

And that was pretty much all I was going to get out of him. Jimmy was a chatty fellow, but he wasn't much for talking about that kind of stuff.

"What did you do, then?" I tried again.

"Oh, you know.. We didn't really do anything. Sat around.. Played stupid board games.. I got my ass kicked at football by my two nephews. Oh, and my sister forced me to cook." He winced. "That wasn't a night to remember." With that, he took a large bite out of his hotdog.

He frowned thoughtfully. "Why didn't you want me to invite Clark? I figured you'd jump at any chance ot hang out with him."

I shrugged, leaning against the iron fence. "First of all, I would've been pretty pathetic if you needed _you_ as a matchmaker." I joked and elbowed him lightly in the side. He snorted and nodded his agreement.

"Secondly, I don't actually need it anymore. Me and Clark at totally friends at this point." It was true. I hadn't told anyone out loud, but Clark and I were definitely more than just acquaintances now. it felt good to say it out loud and I could help but smile smugly at his look of surprise.

"When did that happen?"

"I don't remember if I told you, but Clark and I hung out one day this November. We really hit it off. He's amazing to talk to. Anyway, we've just been hanging out randomly. He's a really nice guy."

Jimmy took the last bite from his hotdog and threw the paper into a nearby trashcan. "I didn't even notice." He looked accusingly at me, like I'd betrayed him for keeping this piece of gossip to myself. He could be such a girl sometimes.

I shrugged. "Well, it wasn't really anything worth mentioning."

Jimmy shivered. I could tell he was freezing his ass off, but was unwilling to admit it. I would've suggested that we found some place warmer, like, not outside on a December day, but I allowed myself to be a bit selfish and stay out. I loved the cold season, and I wasn't freezing, due to an awesome coat.

I took another bite of the hotdog, despite feeling quite full already. But, hey, it was free food. I wasn't about to pass that up.

Still, after two more bites, I offered the rest to Jimmy, which he gladly accepted. Despite his petite size, he really did eat a lot.

After he finished it off, we walked towards his apartment, which was closest, chatting along the way. We had our bikes with us, but since it's difficult to ride a bike and talk at the same time, especially in a big city like Metropolis, we opted to walk.

Once we reached his apartment, we stood outside and talked, until he loudly complained that he couldn't feel his nose anymore. I laughed loudly, but still said goodbye and left for my own home.

The next day, I spent the entire day worrying over having to help Lois Lane. It wasn't like I had anything against her, other than the obligatory disdain you have towards your crush's ex. I was just afraid of not doing my job good enough or accidentally saying anything rude, which was likely, considering how hard it was for me to shut up sometimes.

I knew that Lois Lane was powerful at the Daily Planet, if not because she was the star reporter, then because her fiancé was mister White's nephew. I wanted her to have a good impression of me. Other than that one time where I helped her and Richard White, the one time that first imprinted the idea that Clark might be Superman into my mind, I hadn't interacted with her at all.

I couldn't screw this up, especially if I hoped for a proper job as a reporter at the Daily Planet once I finished my education.

But most off all, I was terrified of accidentally revealing that Clark was Superman. I knew it was really unlikely, but it was one of those things that you worried about regardless.

The day went by faster than I would've wanted it to. At the end, Jimmy approached me.

"Clark and I are going to Gotham for an article on a new art museum recently opened there." he informed me.

I raised an eyebrow "Isn't Gotham a pretty stupid place to open a museum with potentially valuable items?" he shrugged.

"Anyway, Clark told Perry White that you were in the middle of a reporter education, and he asked for permission to bring you along, to give you experience and stuff. If you want to, of course."

"Erh." Clark had done that? Suggesting anything to Perry White took guts, especially stuff like this. If he accepted, that meant he'd either be without someone to make coffee for his caffeine junkies, or that he'd have to find a replacement, neither of which I bet appealed to him. "Did Mister White actually agree to that?"

"Yup. Clark was very persuasive." Jimmy said. "Especially considering he totally got the idea right there. He just had to come up with arguments on the spot. Anyway, whatcha say?"

"Hold on a second! When is this even?"

"this weekend. Friday, Saturday and Sunday." That explained a lot. I never worked in the weekends, so Perry White would have no problem with letting me go then. I did work on Fridays, but I guess he could afford to let me off just this once.

I sighed regretfully. "Then I can't.. You know I'm going to New York this weekend to check up on my father."

"Can't you do that later?" Jimmy whined.

I offered him a half-smile. "I'll see if I can figure something out." I said "And if I can, I'd love to go with you and Clark to Gotham."

He smiled widely. "Awesome. I'll see you later. Good luck with sorting through records!"

I made a face and he laughed gleefully before hiking his bag further up his shoulder and headed for the elevator.

Just then, Lois Lane approached me. She gave me a distracted smile, sort of to acknowledge my presence, as she talked to someone over the phone. From the way she was talking, I figured it was to her son. She ended the call and turned to me.

"Hi." she gave me a half-smile again. "Just follow me to my desk, I've piled all the old records for you there."

I nodded and grabbed my things, following wordlessly after her.

She quickly explained what I was supposed to do, which sentences I should highlight and so on. We worked in silence for an hour when she suddenly spoke up. Shame. I had almost enjoyed the silence.

"So, you and Clark seem pretty close." she said.

Good grief, this was the last topic I would want to discuss with her.

"Ehm, yeah." I offered. "He's a super guy."

God dammit.

She nodded absentmindedly while she continued typing away at her keyboard. "I think it's good. That you're good friends. I sometimes worry about him."

Wait, she did?

I nodded. She didn't seem to notice.

"He does kind of seem a bit lonely. I wish I could've been there for him some more, but I'm just so busy."

Her statement surprised me and I realized that I might have judged her unfairly. I could see that she meant it. I could see that she really did genuinely care for Clark - just not in the way he would've wanted. It came to me that Lois honestly hadn't done anything to me. The only thing I really held against her was that she liked Superman, and not Clark, but she didn't know that he was the same person, so why should I expect her to like them both?

Essentially, what I didn't like about her was that she wasn't attracted to the same man as me. Which proved that my logic was shit, because if she liked him, it would mean that they'd probably be in a relationship, since he was obviously crazy about her. And that would pretty much ruin my own chances.

I think, I mainly didn't like her because she was hurting Clark, without even realizing it. I cared for Clark, so it was logical that I'd dislike anyone who hurt him.

Still, Lois didn't deserve my disdain when she'd never done anything towards me that could've been the cause of it.

Other than make me sort through these records. They were _boring. _

"Well, no need to worry about him. He's doing fine." I said. "Just super."

.. _GOD DAMMIT._

I almost hit myself over the head when she gave me a weird look. I hope it was because she just thought I really loved the word 'super'.

I'd told her that he was fine, but the truth was, I didn't even know if he was. Sometimes he acted like everything was great and he was totally happy, but at other times I couldn't help but detect this underlying sadness. Like he had a heavy burden constantly weighing down, and there was nothing or no one to help his with that burden.

Which, I suppose, was exactly what he was feeling. He felt like he constantly had to save the world, and the world never gave him anything in return.

Without realizing it, I'd stared into space with a sour expression on my face and wrinkled one of the papers as my hand clenched around it. I quickly smoothed out my features and returned to my work.

Half an hour later, Lois ordered some take-away. We ate while we worked. I think we both wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. I had almost finished anyway, so I just wanted to get the last few records done and then head home – hopefully for a long warm bath.

Ten minutes later, I finally finished off the last paper. I picked up the st

ack of papers and put them on Lois' desk.

"Here, miss Lane. I'm all done."

She looked up from her screen and smiled gratefully at me. I could partly understand why Clark was attracted to her. She was really beautiful. It sort of gave me an uncomfortable feeling in my chest, because it made me feel inferior and less worthy of his attentions. Like I was in a lower class of human than the two off them. An imposter.

I quickly returned the smile she offered, trying to appear as friendly as possible.

"Thank you, Miss Logan. I really appreciate it." I sighed with relief. I hoped I'd done a good enough job.

"You can leave now. Have a nice evening." I felt a rush of sympathy for her – I certainly wouldn't want to stay at the Daily Planet alone to finish up an article.

"Thanks. You too."

I quickly left the building afterwards, my warm bath already calling me.

* * *

So it turns out the town I'm in right now has wifi. I couldn't resist uploading. But since I'm absolutely beat from two weeks on an insane camp with a lot of activities 24/7 and I just woke up, this chapters hasn't really been edited that much. I just wanted to give you guys a treat anyway, so I hope you can still enjoy.

I've got a nasty sunburn on my arms btw. And my lips, for some reason. Can you even sunburn your lips? Well I sure can. Damn this annoyingly pale danish skin.

I'm goign to shut up now. I'm really tired

Sorry


	16. Kryptonite is a No-Go Topic

**Chapter 16**

**Kryptonite is a No-Go Topic**

Clark approached me the next day. I was starting to feel like my desk was some kind of meet and greet, since so many people flooded around it.

He smiled easily at me. He always smiled a lot, now that I thought about it. Not really that much in the beginning, but lately he'd been very cheerful.

I returned the smile.

"My guess is Jimmy already told you?"

I nodded. "Yup. I'm flattered." I gave him teasing smirk. He let out a small laugh and adjusted his glasses. "Anyway, have you thought about it? I really want you to come."

.. Well, even if I hadn't planned on going to Gotham with him and Jimmy before, I certainly wanted to come now! Darnit, hormones and attractive aliens would be my death.

My smile fell a bit. "I don't think I can. I promised my mom to come visit them this weekend, because of, well, you know what happened."

"Yeah. How is he by the way?"

"He's fine. I spoke with him yesterday on the phone. But I still think my mom is expecting me to visit." Once I'd gotten home yesterday, I called my mother who just happened to be at the hospital at the time, and I got to talk to my father. He sounded pretty normal, which did a lot to calm my anxiety.

Clark gave a half smile and shrugged his shoulders, looking a bit disappointed. "Well, we'll just have to make do without you, then."

I grinned. "It's not totally final. I promised Jimmy I'd call my parents and try to rearrange, but I haven't found the time yet." The call yesterday had been pretty brief, because my mother had to get home and my father's doctor came to check up on him again.

"I'm going to call my mom today. We'll see, maybe I can come after all."

Clark nodded, but reassured me that he wouldn't want me to neglect my family if it came to that. He'd rather suggest to Perry White that they waited a bit so I could come. I snorted. Like Perry White would ever let them wait just so the office girl could join them.

Just then, the man himself poked his head out of his door and hollered for Clark. I could see him sigh before he gave me a nod in goodbye and walked towards Perry's office.

He stopped and turned around after a few steps "You'll give me word once you know?" he said. I nodded.

"I'll call you tonight."

He nodded and turned around again, walking swiftly towards Perry White's office. Not swiftly enough, since the old man still found time to loudly shout for him once again before he reached the door.

Once I got home, I set about preparing dinner and then kept my promise to call my mother and inform Clark of the outcome.

I was cutting through lettuce and tomatoes when I called her, putting the cell phone on speaker so I had both hands.

She picked up after three rings. "Hey mom!" I said cheerfully. "How's dad?"

_"Hi, sweetie."_ She said. _"He's better. Near impossible as usual, but he's healing."_ I laughed a bit. My father was never known for being easy.

"That's good, I guess. We wouldn't want him to change, now would we?"

She snorted a bit_. "No, that would be a waste."_

I grinned to myself at her comment as I finished the salad and scooped it into a bowl. My mother must've been able to detect something in my voice, because a moment later she asked me if there was something else I wanted to talk about.

"Erh, actually.. there is." I admitted. "Yesterday, a reporter offered to let me go with him to Gotham for a few days, where he's writing an article. He figured I'd want the opportunity to get some pointers on how to interview people and use that to write an article. It's a great opportunity for me, mom. It could really help me in the near future. And I really want to go." I felt like a kid asking for permission to go to my first birthday party where there were both girls and boys.

_"That sounds great sweetie!"_ she sounded happy for me. I washed my hands and dried them off on my apron, my mind quickly going to back to the night where Clark had been wearing it, before I started cutting up meat and putting it on the frying pan.

"Only problem is that its next weekend, mom." I quickly added.

She fell silent. Several seconds passed. _"But what about your father, Georgia?"_ I couldn't help but notice the disappointed and accusing note in her voice. It was probably my imagination too. My mother rarely used a disappointed and accusing tone with me. She usually didn't have to. I'd always feel so bad myself that I'd imagine that she had that tone in her voice, even if she didn't.

"I know, mom, and I'm sorry. If you guys really want me to come, I'll just cancel," I quickly said, not without a slight whine in my voice. "But I don't know when this opportunity will come up again." I felt the need to warn her.

I could suddenly hear another voice over the phone – my dad's. I heard a muffled _'Gimme that dang phone!' _and then the sound of a phone passing from one hand to another.

_"Hey Cupcake."_ My father suddenly said over the line. I felt my stomach sink even more. I was afraid he'd start lecturing me about families sticking together and how I honestly couldn't abandon them now and so on.

"Hey dad.." I reluctantly replied.

_"Listen closely," _he started. I winced. Here came the lecture. _"If you show your face here instead of going to Gotham, I will personally kick your sorry ass to Gotham myself."_ I was stunned for a moment. Then I burst out laughing, relief washing over me.

"Thank you daddy!" I felt like a giddy child again. He may have sounded harsh, but I knew my dad's way of talking, and what he had really said was that he didn't want me to sacrifice such a good opportunity for him. He'd be fine.

"I promise I'll try to visit you the next weekend instead!" I quickly added.

_"Of course, Cupcake. I'll look forward to it." _

I smiled easily and took the finished meat off the stove, just as the oven 'ding'ed, my french-fries now done too.

"I'll see you soon daddy."

_"Bye Georgia." _

We hung up then, and I set about setting my table.

As I ate, I thought about going to Gotham. I'd never been. When I was younger I had wanted to go there after high school, probably to attend college, but my dad had always said that Gotham was a far too dangerous place for a young girl to live alone. He was right, of course, so in the end I moved to Metropolis instead of Gotham. If I'd known back then how grateful I would be for choosing Metropolis instead, I probably wouldn't have had all those horrible fights with my dad over it.

Still, I was pretty excited to go now. Ever since Batman appeared, the city had become significantly safer. It was a miracle what one man in a bat-themed suit could do to such a big city. I think part of it was because he didn't just fight crime; he inspired other people to do the same with the means they had.

I called Clark once I'd finished eating. He didn't pick up at first, so I put my phone next to me on the sink, while I did the dishes, figuring he'd call me back when he could.

I wondered what exactly we'd be doing in Gotham, and why it would take an entire weekend. I couldn't imagine a simple article about an art museum would take three days of research. Or why Clark wanted me to come along so bad, for that matter.

Still, he was the expert, so I decided to trust him.

Five minutes later, my phone beeped to life with an incoming call. I quickly dried my hands and looked at the screen, answering once I saw it was Clark.

"Hey!" I greeted.

_"Hi Georgia, I'm sorry I didn't answer my phone. There was a robbery I needed to see to."_ he said over the phone.

I grinned a bit. He sounded like a cop. A super alien cop.

"How'd that go?"

_"As usual. Two new criminals safely locked away."_

"My hero," I teased. "Anyway, I called to say that I can come with you and Jimmy to Gotham after all." I couldn't hide the enthusiasm in my voice.

_"That's great!"_ He couldn't either. He continued in a more worried manner. "I hope your parents aren't too disappointed?"

"No, don't worry." I quickly reassured him. I put the phone on speaker and placed it on the table to I could finish the dishes while we talked. "My dad told me he'd kick my ass if I didn't go to Gotham."

_"He sounds intimidating."_ Clark said dryly. I snickered at the idea of Superman finding my dad intimidating.

"I don't think you've got too much to worry about." I pulled out the plug in the sink as I finished the last dish, quickly starting to dry them off. "A middle-aged slightly overweight cop is hardly going to be a threat for someone like you."

Clark laughed briefly. _"I guess not physically, but I'd still want to make a good impression on your parents."_

My hands still briefly. My brain couldn't help but make that sound like he wanted to impress his girlfriend's parents. Quickly shaking my head to rid it from those kinds of ridiculous thoughts, I continued drying the plate I held in my hand.

"Don't worry, my mom loves you." I assured him. "And whomever she loves, she will make him like too. She's like his kryptonite." I took in a small breath once I realized what I'd just said. My eyes closed briefly in regret.

Diana and I often used that term. Something being someone's kryptonite.' Of course I didn't think twice before letting the comment slip, because I'd said something along those lines plenty of times before. Just never to the man who the lines had originated from.

I stood still again, winching from my own stupidity, hoping to god I hadn't offended him. Having people joke about your one fatal weakness wasn't exactly awesome.

"God, Clark, I'm so sorry, I forgot-" I quickly said, the frustration I had towards myself evident in my voice.

_"Don't worry about it."_ He interrupted me, his voice sounding a bit deflated. I could imagine his face. He probably had that sad smile on, the one that made me want to comfort him until he was happy again, shield him from his problems until they went away.

I felt so stupid.

I cleared my throat, deciding to change the subject as fast as possible. "So, what are we doing in Gotham?"

_"Well, I have that article about the art museum I need to write. Then I figured we could try and get some inspiration for another article while there, or something."_ I could almost see him shrug nonchalantly, like he so often did. _"Honestly, Jimmy and I don't have a lot of plans. We're only staying for an entire weekend because Jimmy thought it'd be a waste to go all the way to Gotham and only stay for a day. He says he wants to take some picture of the more famous sights and see if he can sell them, or something." _

I nodded to myself.

"And where do I come in, in all of this?"

"_As I told Perry, I want to give you the opportunity to be in the field. You know, gain some experience and such." _He said.

"I suppose you're right. Thank you letting me come."

"_I should mention there's a catch." _He revealed.

I raised an eyebrow. "What catch?"

"_I kind of need you to distract Jimmy one of the days." _He admitted. "_Just for a short while. I've got a meeting with the Justice League. Batman's got some news he wants all of us to be there for, and this weekend is the only one in a long time where every member can be there at the same time. I think it'll be Saturday afternoon." _

He had a meeting with the Justice League? Curiosity swooped over me. What had Batman found? Was it serious? Dangerous? Surely he wouldn't ask for all of them if it wasn't both serious and dangerous.

"Sure." I quickly agreed. "No problem."

As an afterthought, I added. "Are you even allowed to tell me stuff like that?"

"_I think you could be considered a special case, since we don't have any rules for people who do know one of our secret identities. As long as I don't start telling you about the others' identities, I think we'll be alright." _He said after a moment.

I found myself breathing a sigh of relief. I didn't want any superheroes to hunt me down and silence me. Not that it was likely to happen, since they were the heroes, and hurting me sounded like a very villainous thing to do for a hero. Plus, I had the, arguably, most powerful one on the team to protect me.

The phone call ended soon after that, since neither of us really had more to say. I knew that my stupid kryptonite comment was what had ruined the conversation. The whole thing had become a bit tense afterwards. We spoke to each other like we always did, but it lacked the friendliness and easiness that I would usually find between us.

Completely worn afterwards, I decided to go to bed early.

* * *

Despite the fact that we weren't leaving for Gotham 'til ten am, I woke up at seven, simply because I was so excited for the trip I couldn't stay asleep.

Luckily for me, this gave me extra time, so I started my morning by enjoying a long hot bath, since I didn't know if the hotel we'd be staying at had a bathtub or just a shower. I hoped it had a bathtub. I was unwilling to go an entire weekend without a bathtub.

I wouldn't say I was addicted to my hot baths.. but I totally was, let's face it.

I sat in there for forty-five minutes, listening to a mixed Queen and The Beatles playlist from my computer, feeling so at peace I almost fell asleep again.

I didn't, of course. I was still too excited for this trip to fall asleep. Breakfast was, like the bath, an enjoyable and slow affair, where I enjoyed the left over pancakes from that night Clark stayed over and cooked.

At 9:00 I was practically floating around my apartment, humming to the aforementioned music, packing up the last bits and pieces I needed. Doing a quick check up to make sure that there weren't any lights on and the stove wasn't on, as well as the coffee machine, before pulling my brown wavy locks into a ponytail and picking up my luggage, I left my apartment with a content sigh and a smile on my face.

We had agreed to meet at the Daily Planet, since that was a place we definitely knew we all could find without a problem, which made everything so much easier. I was the first there, despite deciding to walk there. I didn't want my bike to be parked in front of the building all weekend, instead of the much safer parking spot it had by my apartment. If Metropolis wasn't already known for Superman, I suspect it would've been known for bike vandalism. Must be a gang thing.

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long. Soon, I spotted Jimmy and Clark walking down the street towards me, talking. Jimmy was animatedly talking about something, while Clark listened on, smiling and nodding occasionally. I bet Jimmy was really excited to go to Gotham with his two best friends. His two only friends, actually. Whatever.

I picked up my bag and met up with them. "Hey!" I said enthusiastically, if not a bit loudly.

"Hi Georgia!," Jimmy sounded just as enthusiastic."Ready to go learn some serious reporter stuff?"

I smiled happily. "You bet."

I turned to Clark and smiled as a greeting. He returned it, effectively reducing my knees to jell-o. I don't think his smile would ever stop having that effect on me.

Soon we were on our way down the street. Clark offered to carry my bag for me. I almost refused, but then I remembered that, oh right, he's Superman, he could probably carry a skyscraper and not break a sweat.

Besides, it was a sweet gesture, and very gentlemanly. Two of my biggest weaknesses. My greatest weakness was just Clark altogether.

He was, and pardon me for saying it, my kryptonite, ironically enough.

We arrived at the train station some fifteen minutes later, leaving us with about twenty minutes to find the ten am train to Gotham.

Gotham was in driving distance from Metropolis, and taking a car would've probably been a lot easier, but since neither of us actually owned a car, we opted to simply take the train.

It took us twelve minutes to find. Jimmy was freaking out the whole time, constantly saying that we'd never make it if Clark and I didn't hurry up a bit. I guess we weren't the fastest travelers Jimmy could've chosen to travel with. Clark had to stop and buy a news paper at the train stations small shop, and I kept getting distracted by all the hustle and bustle the crowded train station provided.

I really wasn't very good in a crowd.

Not to mention, I was looking for inspiration for a new piece of art, so I had to stop and take pictures of every single piece of graffiti I could find.

Poor Jimmy. I was really the worst person to befriend when you had a natural tendency to worry and fuss about everything.

* * *

You'd be surprised by how much of this story I'm freestyling. I seriously just pulled the whole Gotham plot out of my ass a second before I wrote it into the previous chapter, and now it's going to become an important plot point.

Take notes, kids. This is hwo you write a story.

Kidding, I suck at this, never take my advice.

Anyways, yay, I updated! I know it's a bit late, sorry :D I had to edit it and stuff.


	17. I wear an Embarrassing T-shirt

**Chapter 17**

**I wear an Embarrassing T-shirt**

After stopping for the eleventh time, to take a new picture of a particularly skillful piece of graffiti, Jimmy finally snapped and groaned loudly before he started dragging me along, leaving me unable to take anymore pictures. Clark laughed at the scene. He'd been particularly cheerful that morning. I guess he was really excited to go to Gotham. Something told me that he was actually worried about that Justice League meeting, but he didn't want to let it show, so he acted more cheerful than he really was. Perhaps it was more to fool himself than me.

"C'mon!" Jimmy groaned. He had to carry his weighty bags _and_ drag me along behind him, so I guess he was starting to struggle a bit. "I bet there's a lot of graffiti in Gotham too!"

"But in Gotham I'll be far too distracted by everything else to worry about the graffiti." Jimmy didn't relent, instead giving me an annoyed glare, so I crossed my arms and pouted slightly, marching ahead of him so I was level with Clark.

A few minutes of searching later, Clark pointed ahead of us, saying, "Look, that's our train." Jimmy groaned again, this time with relief. I assumed that was partly because he now knew we were going to make it, and partly because he wouldn't have to lug around with his luggage anymore. Jimmy had decided that since it wasn't often he went to Gotham, he needed to bring his _really_ good camera along. Unfortunately, his really good camera was pretty big and heavy, and came with lots of extra stuff that I had no idea what did since I didn't really care about that kind of thing. It added to his deadweight a lot.

Clark started walking faster, probably just as eager to settle down in the train as Jimmy was. I was having a hard time keeping up with them now. It wasn't easy being short.

"What, who has the tickets?" I suddenly remembered, jogging up next to them. I vaguely remembered Clark saying he'd take care of it earlier this week, so I really hoped he had.

"Right here." He patted his coat pocket and I sighed with relief. The Daily Planet paid for the train ride, luckily. Train tickets were expensive.

The train ride took roughly two and a half hours. Clark didn't say much, opting to simply read his news paper. Jimmy and I played 'I spy' for the better half of the ride, like the mature adults that we were. For a moment, I was afraid Clark would start feeling a bit left out in our strange trio, because he was much more mature and quiet than Jimmy and I. It was like an adult trying to connect with two middle schoolers.

In fact, he did smile at us with a look of amusement and fondness, like a teacher would his third graders. It worried me a bit, because it was kind of logical that this all-powerful and knowledgeable alien would see us puny humans as small kids that needed his guidance.

And it got me thinking.. Did Clark really just view me as a small immature being that needed his guidance? Was that how he viewed every single human?

Did my crush suffer from a serious ego problem?

I prayed to god that he didn't, on all accounts. That would kind of be like the fifth grader that has a crush on their cute and funny teacher, who, obviously (hopefully), only thinks of the fifth grader as a nice kid, and nothing more.

Once those thoughts started swirling around in my head, I couldn't quite enjoy our little game as much anymore, so I settled for reading instead.

The train station in Gotham was very different from the one in Metropolis. First of all, like everything else in Gotham, compared to Metropolis, it was darker and dirtier and had this feeling of something threatening in the air.

It gave me the creeps, and I found myself, more than once, getting small flashbacks from that night where I was almost mugged. That dark, dank and damp street reminded me very much of Gotham.

Once, I actually stopped and leaned briefly against a wall, to try and rid myself of the unpleasant images that were flooding my brain. It was like a dam that was breaking. I'd been so good at keeping all those thoughts and fears out of my head, and now they seemed to spill out all at once.

Jimmy didn't notice, as he was too busy trying to keep his luggage in check while looking around with interest, but Clark did. He sent me this calculating yet worried look that made me think he'd already partly guessed what was wrong with me.

Once we got out into the 'fresh' air, the flashbacks stopped for the most part, so I decided not to mention them. Knowing Jimmy, he'd start fussing. We really didn't want that.

Our first day in Gotham was pretty uneventful. Once we'd reached our hotel, a surprisingly nice place with awesomely soft beds, and unpacked, it was just about half past two, so we found a nice little restaurant where we had lunch and then proceeded to find the art museum. Since this trip was technically work related, the Daily Planet covered our hotel expenses. Originally, they had booked one room for Clark and one for Jimmy, but since I was suddenly thrown into that mix, and Perry White was a cheap-ass, Clark and Jimmy got to share a room instead, while I got one all to myself.

Once we got the museum, we were greeted by the guy running the place, who insisted on answering all of Clark's questions himself. Probably because he needed to make sure that the Daily Planet got as positive an article out of this as possible, presumably because he _really_ needed the media attention to keep the place running. Jimmy walked around taking pictures of everything (and I'm not exaggerating when I say _everything_.), Clark had easily engaged the owner in an interview, me on the sideline occasionally taking notes on Clark's technique.

It was kind of funny, because Clark was so nice and polite but he asked these really sharp, intelligent and digging questions that seemed to make the owner slightly uncomfortable, like Clark was getting to somewhere the owner didn't want him to go.

In the beginning it was just normal routine questions, but then Clark started digging in some particular areas, like the relevance of the museum, and how it was doing financially. The guy was pretty vague, and at the end of the interview, his good mood was significantly deflated and he only answered Clark's questions with short answers or noncommittal grunts.

Once the interview ended, I had at least two sheets of paper filled with notes on how to do this interview crap. I was incredibly happy for the opportunity to do this. So far, the evening classes I'd been to had mainly focused on writing articles based on researching a subject, so I didn't have a lot of experience with interviewing people yet. And since I wasn't exactly a people's person, interviews was something I really needed to practice.

We found Jimmy, who said he was done too, and we left. Since I'd never been to Gotham and Jimmy had only been there once before, we decided to just walk around for a bit and get a closer look at the city. Clark was able to point out a few different buildings and monuments and tell us about them. The City continued to make me uncomfortable. Not because I got flashbacks anymore, but because every street, every alley, every corner, looked like a place fit for a murder or a gang fight, or some other terrible crime. The whole city looked like that creepy alley that your parents didn't want you to go near. Incidentally, the same alley your friends always dared you to enter when playing Truth or Dare.

Several times we saw a bunch of highly suspicious looking types, who all gave me the creeps. I noticed how Jimmy was oddly quiet and Clark walked next to, and slightly in front of, me in a uncharacteristically menacing, but protective, way.

It even felt like the sun was setting earlier here than in Metropolis. It was half past five once we left the museum, which would mean it was about six o' clock now, and the whole place was already dark and gloomy as night from the set sun.

"I thought Batman had cleared this place somewhat up?" I kind of timidly whispered, leaning slightly towards Clark, despite knowing that he'd be able to hear me just fine. Maybe it was more because I was intimidated, and felt safer when he was near, than it was for him to hear me.

"He did." Clark lowly answered. "You should have seen the city before he came."

That made me shudder. It had been worse than this?

"Guys, how about we go at dinner and head back to the hotel?" Jimmy suggested after a while. I could see he was uncomfortable too. And he didn't even know that we had the world's best bodyguard with us, so he must've felt even worse than me. "Call it a day?"

"Sure." I was quick to agree. Superman or no Superman, this place was still creepy.

We headed in the direction of the hotel, hoping we'd find a restaurant on the way. In the end, we just settled for this slightly crappy pizza place a few blocks from the hotel. The food was okay, I guess, nothing special.

Still, the place was cozy enough and we ended up spending two hours in there, just talking and looking at some of the pictures Jimmy had taken at the museum.

"So, do you think the owner is hiding something?" I asked Clark. The answer was obvious enough. The man had clearly been uncomfortable with some of the questions Clark had asked.

He nodded. "Either he's got a pretty big debt, because of the place, which he doesn't want to talk about, or he gained the money in some sketchy way that he _definitely_ doesn't want to talk about."

"Are you going to add that to the article?" I couldn't help but ask. It wasn't like we had any proof, but not all reporters worried about stuff like that.

"No.. I don't think so. I don't have any proof, and the article isn't about the owner himself, it's about the art, so it's.. well, it's not irrelevant, just not as important is it could've been."

"Ah." I said, signaling that I understood.

"I'll probably do some digging and see if I can find anything illegal or scandalous enough to write a new article about. But right now I'll leave it out."

I nodded. It sounded logical. That way, he'd get two articles out of the deal.

"So, did you learn anything today?" He asked, smirking slightly at me.

"Yeah, tons. It was great. You were really good at making him uncomfortable." I complimented. He laughed with amusement and brushed off the compliment. "I think making people uncomfortable is 50% of a reporters job. When the subject gets uncomfortable, it usually means you're doing it right. At least with these kinds of articles."

I took a mental note to write that piece of advice down too.

Around eight pm we found ourselves on the street again, only this time it was much colder and, though I hadn't thought it possible, darker.

As we walked past some night club/bar thing, a couple of seriously drunk dudes did the wolf whistle after us, with an addition of insulting catcalls. I could feel my heart speed up. It made me even more uncomfortable, especially because I knew they were aimed at me. I did what my mom always told me to do: ignore them.

I told myself I was being ridiculous. I was flanked by two grown men, one of whom was an all-powerful alien, and my pulse still quickened with fear when a pair of drunken assholes made rude gestures at me.

Clark must've felt my fear, or heard my quickened heart beat, because he grabbed my hand and held it for the rest of the walk home. I really hoped Jimmy wouldn't notice. I'd never hear the end of _that_.

* * *

I'd set my alarm clock for seven thirty the next morning, to be sure I had enough time to get ready. True, we agreed to meet for breakfast at nine, and using an hour and a half to get ready seemed a bit unnecessary, but if I was spending an entire day in Clark's presence, I had to come up with fashionable, yet responsible clothes, and foolproof make-up that wouldn't smudge during the day or hair that would get messy or flat.

So an hour and a half was probably not as much time as I would really need. I was so exhausted the night before that I hadn't taken the time to plan out anything, instead just going to bed immediately. Which was why I knew I'd need a lot of time to get ready the next morning.

Figures, then, that I'd wake up to find the sunlight a lot brighter than it should have been, and an alarm clock proudly announcing that seven thirty had already ticked past. In fact, so had nine o'clock, seeing as it now was ten past.

My heart stopped for a moment, my eyes widening, as I leapt out of bed as fast as possible. Being late was really the last thing I needed. The last impression I wanted to give Clark. I was generally not a late person. I was actually pretty punctual. Sure, I was never early either, but I was very rarely late.

I did as quick a wash up as I possibly could in my small bathroom, when I suddenly heard a knock on my door.

"Who is it?" I opened the bathroom door as I hastily put away my make-up, which I had sloppily put on, and tied up my long brown locks in a high ponytail.

"Georgia? It's Clark."

"You can come in!" I quickly said, even as I remembered that I was still wearing my night clothes. And I had no idea where my glasses were. I had luckily chosen to wear a pair of shorts to bed too, so I was decent.

I heard the key in the door and then Clark stepped inside. While Jimmy and Clark shared a room, and I had one all to myself, we'd agreed to all have a spare key to both rooms, in case of somebody losing theirs.

Which, in my case, was highly likely.

"I am so, so, sorry, really, I honestly had set my alarm to, like, seven thirty, but the damned thing didn't go off, and I swear it's not my fault, I'll be ready in two minutes, I promise-" I kept babbling out excuse after excuse.

"It's okay. It's not your fault the alarm didn't go off. Jimmy's a little miffed, though.."

I heaved a sigh, a mix between relief and annoyance, and left the bathroom, stepping into the main area, where Clark was.

"Great." I started looking around for my glasses. I really needed to start putting those things a place where I'd always be able to find them. "I'll bribe him with muffins or something.. Where are those damned glasses? Aha!" Finding them on a shelf next to the door, I reached for them.

I turned back to Clark, only to find him looking at me a bit weirdly. Without my glasses it took me a moment to realize what he was looking at. My body. For a second I was afraid I actually hadn't worn those shorts to bed last night after all and that I was flashing a whole lot of leg and possible underwear. I honestly wouldn't know. I was so tired the night before, I could've easily dreamed putting those shorts on. I slipped the glasses on quickly.

After a moment I realized it wasn't my legs he was looking at, by my upper body. For a second, the thought 'Is Clark looking at my boobs?' flashed through my brain, and I was afraid I'd accidentally worn one of those white and slightly see through cotton t-shirts that were too comfortable for their own good.

Then I finally decided to actually look down and check what I was wearing, and I realized it was much, much worse.

A horrible neon green colored t-shirt greeted me. Now, the color in itself was enough to be embarrassed about, but the fact that, in large cartoonish letters, the shirt spelled out 'Superman can use his x-ray vision on me anytime!' was what made this t-shirt land on my top five list of things Clark really didn't need to know that I owned.

Silence reigned. I looked at Clark, panic in my eyes. Clark looked at my shirt, then moved his eyes upwards and met mine. He slowly raised an eyebrow in what was either confusion, humor or something much worse, like repulsion. I literally face palmed and then proceeded to panic.

"Nooooooooo!" Was the only thing I could say and then I ran for the bathroom where I promptly locked the door. Great going, Georgia.

I could hear Clark laughing louder than I had ever heard him laugh before. I debated whether that was a good or a bad thing. I took several deep breaths and started changing, eternally grateful that I had already brought an outfit with me to the bathroom. Once I finished, Clark had stopped laughing, for the most part.

"Georgia, it's fine, seriously. Stop hiding in the bathroom." He said and quickly disguised a laugh as a cough.

I hesitantly opened the door and peaked out. Clark was standing where he'd been standing before I ran like a total coward.

"I can _totally_ explain." Was the first thing I said.

Clark smiled wryly. "By all means. I'm actually curious."

I stepped further into the room and closed the bathroom door after me. "First, I'd like to add that I got it before I knew you were.. well, _him_. Also, it was a present from Diana." I slipped on a pair of warm socks and started looking around for my boots.

"Ah. Makes sense." He said. He handed me my boots and I nodded my thanks before slipping them on."Shame."

My head moved so quickly it hurt. "Excuse me?"

He smiled cheekily. "The thought of you buying that shirt is priceless. "

I frowned slightly, not understand what he meant exactly. "I like to think I have better fashion sense. That color is hideous. Diana just loves to give me shitty presents for fun. And I only use it to sleep in. It's kind of really comfortable."

He was still smiling with amusement, but he nodded and accepted my excuse nonetheless. "Anyway, are you ready? Jimmy was very impatient when I left him. And that was ten minutes ago."

"Erh, yeah. Yup, I'm ready. Let's go." I basically marched out the door, frantic to get as far away from the room as possible and forget all about my horrible morning.

* * *

Warning: This is probably going to be the last chapter I'll be able to post in a while. I know my posting have been really unsteady lately, and I'm so sorry, but school is about to start soon and on top of that, I've only got one extra chapter written, and I want to have at least a few chapters extra whenever I post again. I had a small writers block, but I think I'm over that again, so don't worry, I won't be gone for months or anything.

In the meantime, show me some appreciation by reviewing ;)


	18. Pokerface

**Chapter 18**

**Pokerface**

"By the way." Clark said once we reached the end of the hall. He pressed the button on the elevator. "That meeting I mentioned is today. So sometime this afternoon I'll need your help with distracting Jimmy."

"Sure." I didn't exactly like the prospect of lying to jimmy and hiding stuff like this from him, but telling Jimmy wasn't my decision to make, so I would simply go along with what Clark had in mind. Once we got down, Jimmy plastered on his most overly disapproving face. It made him look like a disappointed dad and I felt bad for his potential future daughters. That wasn't a look to be ignored.

"My alarm didn't go off." I said and walked straight past him, determined to leave the hotel, and the memory of my embarrassing stunt in my room, behind. I couldn't find the energy to deal with a disapproving jimmy, so I left it at that.

In the corner of my eye I saw Jimmy cast Clark a sideways glance, silently asking what was wrong with me. Clark waved him off with a small smile on his face, obviously still highly amused, and Jimmy rolled his eyes as if to say 'Women!'. I just marched on, expecting them to follow.

A lot of snow had fallen during the night. It was already in the middle of December, and while Metropolis was already covered in Christmas decorations and had a Santa Claus on every corner, Gotham didn't seem to care about the holiday at all. Some of the shops had indeed hung out a few decorations and I could hear Christmas carols playing through the open doors, but the city itself was very bare. Metropolis had lights in every single tree and those banners hanging from one house to the other across the streets. Gotham barely had working streetlights.

We trudged on, Jimmy and I slightly struggling in the big piles of snow. Apparently Gotham wasn't really big on clearing the streets either. At least not the smaller ones because once we got out on the main street it was nicely cleared. Maybe Batman should branch out and start ridding the streets of snow for the 'good of Gotham'.

Clark, with his impossible height and muscle, obviously had no problem at all. Everything was easier when you were Superman. Except for relationships.

Ow. Now I made myself sad.

Anyway, once we reached the main road, the streets cleared out and I didn't have to literally walk in Clark's footsteps anymore. More like jump from footstep to footstep. He took enormous steps.

"You see, this is why I like winter." I pointed out as I fell in line next to Clark and Jimmy. "Travelling is always a lot more interesting."

Jimmy scrunched his nose up. "That's a stupid reason for liking winter."

"It's not the only reason, obviously." I resisted the urge to smack him over the head. "I also like the cold and the snow and the dark nights and the Christmas stuff."

"Wait, you like the cold and the dark?" Jimmy looked at me like I had spontaneously grown a mustache. "Who likes cold and dark?"

I shrugged. "Vampires?"

"Of course." Jimmy muttered, obviously seeing my flawless logic. Clark, so far, hadn't joined the conversation, but he was wearing an amused smile.

"So what are you thinking for breakfast?" he asked us. Or me. I'm not entirely sure, he only looked at me when he asked, so maybe he didn't care about what Jimmy wanted for breakfast.

I shrugged, not really having any ideas. "Dunno. Oh! Wait, I think there's supposed to be some wannabe English pub further down. I saw it yesterday and it had a sign that read 'Try an Authentic English Breakfast' or somethin' along those lines. We could try it?"

"Does this involve bacon?" Jimmy looked at me from around Clark, who was walking in the middle.

".. I think?" I said, not entirely sure, "I've never had an English breakfast before."

"Is it that one?" Clark asked, pointing at a building on the other side of the road. It was a dark green, kind of old looking place with a fancy door and windows to match.

"Erh, Yeah." I recognized the place. "So, what do you say? Wanna try it?"

Clark shrugged, "Sure." Jimmy squinted his eyes at the place, like he was trying to decide if it was sanitary enough for his standards. He was such a germ phobic. Which was weird, when you saw his apartment.

"C'mon, Jimmy, I'm sure it's fine." I gently elbowed him in his side, "Just because it's in Gotham doesn't mean it's as filthy and unsanitary as the rest of the city." I joked.

That probably wasn't the best thing for me to say, because now he looked even more worried. I groaned in frustration. He was like this every single time we looked for a place to eat. It was like he was expecting Gotham to try and kill him in any way possible.

Noticing that we'd been standing out in the cold, looking at that stupid restaurant longer than I cared for, I said, "Well, I'm going anyway," and did just that. Two seconds later, Jimmy and Clark fell in line next to me. I turned my face to the side to hide the small smirk on my lips.

* * *

"Well, look at the time. It's _afternoon_ already!" Clark said.

"Mhmm." I agreed, not yet catching on to what he was trying to say. We were lounging in the hotel's cafeteria, and I was far too relaxed, enjoying my hot chocolate and sitting on their comfortable couch for my brain to function at normal speed.

"So what?" Jimmy asked. "It's not like we have anything planned. "

"_Actually_," Clark said and threw me a look. "I was thinking about going back to that museum. I have a few extra questions I need to ask the owner. Perhaps I can get some visitors to give me some answers too."

A light bulb went off in my head. "Oh!" I loudly said. A small pulling of the corner of Clark's lips told me he knew I'd finally caught on. I put on an annoyed face, ready to test my acting skills. "Do you really have too? That place is sooo boring!"

Clark smirked fully this time. "You guys don't have to come with me. I don't want to ruin your peace."

"Great, we'll just wait right here," I turned to Jimmy with a very resolute look on my face. "_Won't we, Jimmy?_

He looked partly scared and partly confused. Poor Jimmy. "Erh, of course?"

"Goodbye, Clark!" I waved enthusiastically at him, winking briefly. He looked like he wanted to laugh, but picked up his coat and left instead.

"So, Jimmy." I turned around in the sofa, facing him. "What should we do?"

"Well, it's getting dark in a few hours." He still looked confused, but also like he'd decided to not ask. "So we don't have time to do much."

"Hm. True." Neither of us was particularly willing to go out at night, now that our beefy tall guy wasn't with us. "What do you say we stay at the hotel? Eat some early dinner and watch crappy television while playing poker in your room?"

Jimmy smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

So we did just that. Turns out the hotel had some killer burgers. Jimmy ate three. Once he'd finished devouring his third, and I had finished looking at him in baffled horror, we went up to his and Clark's room. Since my room only had one bed, it had more room, but Jimmy and Clark's had a TV, so it obviously won out. It was a pretty okay room. I could see that Clark and jimmy had divided the room in two, since one half was nicely cleaned and proper, and the other half seemed just as messy as my own room was. I'll let you figured out which guy was occupying which side on your own. I smiled fondly at the display of personality you could see, just by looking at their small temporary living space.

Jimmy zapped through the five channels the old thing was capable of showing. It was mostly boring movies, news casts, or really crappy reality shows. Neither of us was willing to watch any of the options, so instead I went and got my playing cards from my room, and we played poker.

It was a pretty ridiculous game, and I'm sure we didn't do it entirely by the rules. It was interesting though, since we were fairly evenly matched. I prided myself in having a good poker face, but I rarely got any good cards on my hand. Jimmy, on the other hand, got some annoyingly good cards, but he was like an open book, so I always knew when it was a good idea to fold.

Once nine pm came by we decided that three hours of poker was more than enough. Checking the TV again to see if anything more interesting had appeared, Jimmy pulled out a box of cookies, which he apparently had forgotten all about until now. What that really meant was that he'd hoped I had left sooner so he could have them all to himself, but he was too impatient to wait any longer, so now he didn't care if I got any.

"I'll have to admit," He said after a moment. There hadn't been anything good on the TV, so now we were just sitting on his bed and munching cookies. "I thought you were exaggerating when you said you and Clark were good friends."

I frowned. "C'mon, Jimmy! Am I usually someone to exaggerate?"

"Yes." He firmly said.

"Okay, maybe I am." I admitted after a moment. "But I wasn't exaggerating this time."

"I noticed." He let out a bit of a gruff laugh. "I think I'm going to go insane if I have to endure another day of you guys' relentless flirting."

Wait, what?

I gasped, "We are not flirting!"

No, maybe that wasn't entirely true. I would certainly catch myself flirting from time to time and there was that one time were Clark most certainly were doing some form of flirting on my balcony, right after he'd flown me home from New York.

But we weren't _really_ flirting, right?

"You are too." Jimmy laughed. "And I guess it's a good thing, right? Didn't you have feelings for him?"

"Well.. Yeah." I admitted. "But he would never be interested in me, so I've accepted that being his friend is enough."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say." I really wanted to know what he meant by that, but I didn't ask. I had a feeling that the answer wouldn't be something I wanted to hear.

I went to my room soon after that. I was getting tired, and Jimmy was frankly starting to annoy me a bit, with all those comments on me and Clark's relationship. Which was honestly none of his business.

As soon as I got to my own room I noticed just how tired I actually was and decided to just go to bed as soon as possible. I had sort of hoped that I'd be awake when Clark got back, but now I didn't care anymore. I was still anxious to know what was going on and if it was dangerous, but I didn't even know if he'd be allowed to tell me anything so I decided that waiting up for him would be pointless.

It turned out that I wouldn't even have had to wait up for him. I had only just changed into my nightclothes, the stupid Superman t-shirt and the same pair of shorts, when he knocked on my door. He looked worried, but when he saw the shirt he still managed an amused smirk, and I was glad to be able to bring him some sort of amusement when he was so obviously worried about something.

"Hey." I greeted. "That sure took some time."

"Yeah, well.." He shrugged as I stepped aside and let him in. "We had a lot to talk about."

I had no idea if I could ask what was going on or not. In the end I settled for: "Am I allowed to ask?"

He gave me a wry half-smile. "Yeah. I think.." He stepped fully inside and closed the door. "I _fear_ it's something you might risk getting dragged into, anyway, so you probably should know." He looked at me with an expression that could only be described as _sorry_.

Sorry for what?

His words registered and my eyes widened with surprise. I could feel the strangely cold but also warm feeling of fear and adrenalin zooming out into my entire body until my limbs tingled, and I felt the need to sit down.

I shuddered, turning my back on him, heading for the small table by my window, and slumped into one of the two chairs by the table.

I had absolutely no idea what was going on, so perhaps I was overreacting. But, honestly, you should consider all the facts I had. All I knew was that there was something that was _so important_ that it had assembled every single member of the Justice League, a bunch of the most powerful beings on earth. I had no idea what this important thing was, but now I was also told that I might become involved.

And since it was big enough to catch the attention of all these all-powerful beings, it was absolutely terrifying for a normal weak human like me to be told that I might become involved.

Why? Why was I involved? I was not important or powerful, or even that knowledgeable. What on earth would the Justice League need me for? Was it even the Justice League that needed me?

A thought occurred to me. Clark had once told me that he was apprehensive about forming too many friendships because his friends always ended up in danger. Was that what was going on here?

I bowed my head and took a shuddering breath, feeling Clark kneel down in front of me so he could look me in my downcast eyes.

"Georgia.." I allowed my eyes to find his and his entire face had such a look of anguish, my heart clenched painfully. His hands came up and cupped my face, one of them briefly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I am so sorry."

Sorry for what? Being my friend, which was probably what had dragged me into this? I resented the thought of him ever regretting the friendship we'd formed.

He didn't even try to reassure me and tell me that it was only a 'maybe' and that I shouldn't worry. And when he'd said that it 'might' be something I'd get dragged into, he was only downplaying it. Looking into his eyes now, I could see that he was beyond any doubt that at some point I'd end up in this mess.

"Will you at least tell me what's going on?" I asked a bit sharply.

His apologetic look turned into a small rueful apologetic smile. "Not now. Not.. not here." He looked around my room, but I had the feel he wasn't looking _at_ my walls, but _through_ them. It was like he was expecting someone to be spying on us.

"God dammit, Clark!" I said loudly and quickly stood up, forcing him to jump up, using his power of flight to avoid a potential collision of our heads. "You can't just spring shit like this on me and then refuse to tell me anything else!"

He landed on the floor again with this horribly Superman-esque stern look on his face. "I am going to tell you everything, Georgia. But not here. Somewhere safe."

"Then take me somewhere safe now!" I yelled a bit shrilly, my arms spreading out to my sides in an open invitation.

"You don't understand." He said. I hated how calm he was right now. It made me feel ashamed of my own anger, even though I felt it was justified. I hated that he was so Superman right now. That he felt like he needed to use the side of him that was famous and powerful and loved, but also a complete stranger to me. I'd rather that it had been Clark I had faced. The warm, caring but anonymous person that I'd come to know so well. "I can't be seen using my powers around you anymore."

My stomach turned to ice at this new information. So someone _was _watching us. My eyes narrowed and I had the feeling my look was more hateful than I was proud of. "You JUST used your flight. You were floating around my room two seconds ago!"

He froze for a moment, like he hadn't even noticed that he had done that. A look of surprise crossed his face. Later, he explained that he'd looked like that because he had been surprised at how comfortable with using his powers around me he'd become with realizing it. At the time, though, I mistook it for confusing as to why I'd suddenly turned into the Wicked Witch of the West. It only served to add to my agitation.

I didn't allow him to defend himself. I just pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him. "No. Nope. Whatever. Just go." I waved a hand towards the door, hoping he would just leave without a fuss.

I let both my hands fall down limp against my sides, my eyes stilled screwed shut.

I could feel the indecision in the air as Clark stood still for a moment. Then I could almost feel him sigh and deflate before he left my room.

I didn't get much sleep that night, and the sleep I got wasn't a restful slumber.

* * *

I am so so so so so sorry for leaving you guys for so long! I promise I will do my very best to avoid ever having to take such a long break again.

Hopefully now that I seem to ahve worked my way arond my writersblock and now that I've settled into my school rutine, I'll be able to keep up my writing.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and stay in anticipation for the next one (which I promise I'll post next weekend)

Also, thank you for not losing faith in me! It will be worth it, I promise.


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